


Spring

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [33]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, M/M, Prison setting, explicit violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5311718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Winter: “Take Your Daughter to Work Day” does not go quite as planned for Reid and Mouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled._

_The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out." -- Ray Bradbury_

“I don’t understand why Dominique LaBarré wants to talk to us after all this time,” Reid said from the front passenger seat of the black SUV. “It’s been ten years, two months, six days.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to us. She specifically requested you,” Prentiss replied.

“I didn’t think I made that much of an impression on her. She patently refused to talk to Hotch after the murders. I was there to take notes and observe. I hadn’t officially started in the BAU yet. The interview took all of about ten minutes. She said she had nothing to say. Pled guilty. Started her sentence less than three months after the crime was committed. Why does she want to talk about this now? Is she hoping to gain a reduction in her sentence if she gives a full allocution of her crimes?”

"I don’t know. Any ideas why she would request to talk to you?”

"I’m far less intimidating than Hotch.”

“Good point. Hotch is an alpha male, comes on pretty strong, whereas you….”

Emily cocked her head to the backseat, where Mouse was hanging on their every word, watching the discussion like it was tennis match. Reid darted an eye at her too.

“I don’t,” he finished simply. “What was it Morgan said? Something about the O in Omega?”

“Something to that effect,” Emily agreed diplomatically. Morgan had actually been much more crass.

Mouse waited for them to continue speaking. They didn’t. Reid shuffled the files in his hand and stuffed them back into his satchel.

“Mouse? You’re not coming inside with me,” he said.

“Awwww….” Her pleasant smile turned to a pouty frown.

“Katherine, no. This is a maximum-security detention facility housing rapists, murderers, thieves, and cutthroats,” Reid said, staring at her over one shoulder.

“But….”

“You are going to wait in the car. Max and Spaulding are right behind us.”

“I can’t believe Max let Spaulding drive,” Prentiss mused.

“They are going to keep you entertained while Emily and I figure out what Dominique wants.”

“How am I supposed to get any idea what you do in your job if I don’t get to go inside?” Mouse demanded.

“Young lady, I’m pretty sure ‘no’ translates in any number of the languages you are familiar with, so don’t press the issue any further,” Reid said crossly.

“Okay, but I want to ask one thing.” 

“Ask away.”

“If this is a maximum security jail filled with rapists, murders, thieves, and so forth, then why are you going there to question a woman? You keep saying ‘she’ and ‘her’.”

“Oh,” Prentiss cringed.

“Are there men and women housed together at the same facility?” Mouse asked. “Like co-ed dorms at college?”

“Erm….no,” Reid answered.

“So why did they….oh,” Mouse decided in a small voice. “Dominique might not be as female as previously assumed.”

“No, she’s not,” Reid nodded.

“Is Dominique like Mama’s hair dresser Marc? He is the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. How did….I mean….”

“Please don’t ask me any questions that your mother will kill me for answering.”

“I can search it on Google and Wikipedia, you know. But…you …I mean…she….”

“Katherine.”

“What did Dominique do?” Mouse wondered. Reid opened his satchel and pulled out the file.

“Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,” Emily whispered.

“Dominique killed three men in Baltimore, Maryland,” Reid replied to Mouse. “Em,” he whispered to Prentiss. “She was burrowing through files on my desk yesterday – saw any number of gruesome photos. Not so sure LaBarré’s crimes would shock her that much.”

Prentiss scolded Reid with one arched brow. 

“You have pictures?” Mouse asked excitedly, unbuckling her seatbelt and scooting up to the back of his seat. The car behind them began to honk. 

“Seatbelt, Mouse. Sit back,” Reid said.

“You do not want to see these pictures,” Prentiss said. “Reid. She’s ten. Put that away,” she told him. 

“She’s very mature for ten,” Reid defended.

“Put those away,” Prentiss said firmly. Reid shrugged and stuffed the folder back in his satchel.

“How did she kill them?” Mouse asked.

“With a sharp knife and a fair bit of hostility,” Reid replied. Prentiss smirked.

“Did she stab them?” Mouse asked. 

“Among other things.”

“Did she cut off their body parts?” 

“Yes.”

“Particular body parts??” 

“Yes,” Reid answered slowly.

“Oh….” Mouse said, nodding again. “Doesn’t it make you nervous to be in the same room with a killer who chopped off men's guy parts?”

“Katherine, there’s no need to be graphic,” Reid chided.

“Why did she kill them?” 

“She has never said.”

“But she wants to tell us now,” Emily interjected. 

“Why?”

“Exactly my question,” Spencer nodded. “Mouse, did you say thank you to Agent Prentiss for taking you shopping yesterday?”

“Yes, she did,” Prentiss replied as Mouse smiled broadly. She was all teeth when she smiled that way. Emily was feeling misty-eyed at seeing the resemblance between Reid and Mouse again. Spencer was wondering how long Mouse was going to keep a full set of teeth if she kept playing ice hockey.

“We shopped. We ate. We got our nails done. I got my eyebrows done too,” Katherine said, rubbing her forehead.

“Thanks for the home-made brownies,” Emily murmured, poking Reid in the side. “Next time, Spencer, you need to come along.”

“Because you secretly have always wanted to wax my eyebrows?” Reid teased. Prentiss shook her head.

“No. Because there’s so much more to being a father than giving your child your credit card and saying ‘Go buy whatever you want’.”

“Thank you for knowing how to dress a ten-year-old girl so she doesn’t look like a pink fairy princess or a street hoodlum.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t change the subject,” Emily pressured.

“You are going to check your pockets before you wash any more sharpie pens in the laundry, aren’t you?” Reid asked Mouse.

“Yes,” Mouse agreed.

Prentiss reached over and pinched a hand around one of Spencer’s wrists.

“Owwww,” Reid complained.

“Repeat after me. ‘I will take my daughter shopping before she goes home to Seattle. I will take my daughter shopping before she goes home to Seattle’.”

“Owww. Yes. I will take Mouse shopping. Before Seattle. You’re bruising me,” he whined, shaking his wrist out of Emily’s grip. “What else do you need to buy that you didn’t buy last night?” he turned around to ask Mouse. The young girl looked embarrassed at how Prentiss and Reid were interacting. At least Spencer thought that might be what the furrowed brow and narrowed eyes was all about. His daughter listened to his question, and her features changed.

“Hockey sticks,” she replied, her smile curling mischievously.


	2. Chapter 2

Prentiss pulled up to the security check in point at the prison facility. She and Reid both showed their badges and credentials to the young man at the gate. He checked his list on his clipboard and nodded.

“Agent Sid is waiting for you at the front entrance,” the guard pointed.

“Thank you,” Prentiss replied, putting away her badge and moving forward along the road. The guard took a long look at Mouse as the SUV rolled forward.

“Agent Tahir al Siddig,” Reid said, pulling out the LaBarré file once more. “He’s from the Baltimore field office. He’s the one who contacted Hotch about the case.”

“Oh goodness. He’s a baby,” Prentiss whispered, glancing at the front entrance, where a thin man with dark hair was pacing back and forth, looking grim and serious.

“He’s not that young. He’s 27,” Reid said.

“You’re 30, and I still think you’re a baby,” Emily smiled at him. Reid frowned at her.

Prentiss parked the SUV and got out. Reid turned to speak again to Mouse, who was reaching for the door handle.

“Not going inside,” he reminded her. Mouse stuck out the tip of her tongue at him, but stuck close to his side.

“Mahd’hahba,” Prentiss said, bowing to Agent al Siddig as she and Reid approached him. The young man stopped, turned, and faced them. Prentiss’s smile melted away as she took in his grim expression.

“Hello to you as well. Sorry. I don’t speak Arabic,” he said, shoving his hands nervously into his pockets. “Call me Sid. You must be Dr. Reid and Agent Prentiss?” he asked.

“Prentiss,” Emily nodded.

“Reid. Nice to meet you,” Spencer said.

“Sorry about…” Prentiss began, shaking Sid’s hand when he extended it.

“No problem, ma’am. I get that all the time. People hear my name and see my face and assume I speak Arabic. I'm as American as you are."

Reid hid a faint smile because Prentiss was frowning, not for the polite dressing-down over cultural assumptions, but because Sid had called her ‘ma’am’. So for as much as she thought of him as a baby at 27, he had taken one look at her and determined that she was old enough to be referred to as ‘ma’am’. That stung. Reid knew that stung. They exchanged a look, and she made a pout-face for a moment, to which Reid beamed in reply.

“If you don’t speak Arabic, how do you know that she was saying hello?” Mouse asked. al Siddig’s eyes fell on her. She shrank shyly against Reid’s side when subjected to Sid’s curious gaze.

“This is my daughter, Katherine,” Reid added to the surprised young agent.

“Nice to meet you, Katherine,” al Siddig said calmly, extending a hand. Mouse returned the handshake. “I have a niece your age,” he offered by way of saying that he was familiar with pre-teen girls and their personality quirks.

“Call me ‘Mouse’,” she said.

“What kind of mouse are you?” Sid asked.

“Mus glacies,” she explained very seriously. Sid frowned at her.

“You’re an ice mouse?”

“I’m a rink rat,” she grinned, all teeth again suddenly. 

“You’re a hockey fan?” Sid asked skeptically.

“Why does it surprise you that a girl is a hockey fan? Agent, I think your quick assumption would be called ‘gender profiling’,” Mouse chided. Reid blanched.

“Don’t worry. She’s not coming inside,” Reid whispered.

“There is a waiting room for children.”

“Yaaaaah!” Mouse cheered.

“I would prefer for her to wait outside,” Reid said firmly.

“Awww,” Mouse pouted again.

“I can show her around while you and Agent Prentiss talk with the prisoner. Give her a tour of the facility.”

“I….um….” It was the last thing Reid wanted.

“I give tours to high school students on a regular basis as part of a scared-straight program. Let them spend time with the truly-hardened criminals. Help them see that they need to turn their lives around before it’s too late. It usually works on even the most recalcitrant teenager,” Sid said.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Reid decided with a quick smirk.

“I throw one hockey stick in a fit of pique, and you’re worried I’ll turn into Aileen Wuornos?” Mouse grumbled.

Spaulding and Volchenkov finally parked next to the black SUV. They got out of the car, muttering at each other. Agent al Siddig watched the two of them approach, Five feet from the others, they stopped short, silencing their disagreement.

“Lieutenant Amy Spaulding. Captain Maksim Volchenkov,” Reid said. “Agent Tahir al Siddig.”

“Mahd’hahba,” Max said, bowing slightly. Agent al Siddig sighed sadly.

“Sorry. I don’t speak Arabic,” he murmured. 

“Are you from Minnesota?” Reid asked, humming softly, narrowing his eyes, as if tasting a faint sound or smell that no one else had detected.

“Duluth,” al Siddig brightened if only a little. “How did you guess?”

“Although you have taken great pains to hide your accent, you have a very Nordic ‘O’. College in California. You wanted a few years of sun. Then the Academy. You decided you liked Washington, but you liked Baltimore even better.”

“I was seduced by Old Bay and Natty Bo,” Agent al Siddig replied, amusement warming his features. “Who are they?” he wondered of Max and Amy.

“Security consultants,” Spaulding offered.

“Security consultants,” Reid repeated obediently with a tiny smile. al Siddig didn’t believe him for one second. Reid spun back to Spaulding and Volchenkov. “Mouse is going to get a tour of the facility. Would you two care to join her?”

“It would only do her good,” Max agreed, taking the young girl aside to whisper to her. “What is this…this off take my seatbelt while in transit stuff…hm? No. Don’t let me see you do that again.”

“Sorry,” Mouse whispered. al Siddig watched the exchange between Max and Mouse, and looked back at Reid questioningly.

“Sorry isn’t going to pick you up off the asphalt and put your kidneys back in place,” Max chided her.

“Yes, sir,” Mouse replied.


	3. Chapter 3

“Ronald Barfield contacted the FBI through his former defense attorney,” Agent al Siddig began to explain as he escorted Prentiss and Reid and Spaulding through several locked and barred glass-paneled areas. Spaulding remained quiet, but having her there was slightly unnerving for al Siddig. He could not seem to stop staring at her.

“Sid, have you been calling her ‘Ronald’?” Prentiss asked.

“Yes, I’ve been calling him ‘Ronald’.”

“That might be one reason why LaBarré doesn’t want to talk to you,” Reid offered.

“I don’t think it’s helpful to indulge a serial killer’s fantasy that he’s a woman.”

“We have actually found in personal interviews that it will put a serial killer at considerable ease if you at least try to understand who they are and how they view themselves,” Reid replied.

“If it quacks, and has yellow feet, and swims, treat it like a duck,” Prentiss said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” al Siddig nodded. “I have questions about this case – things that have struck me as curious.”

“You’ve been going over the details?” Reid asked. 

“I was curious.”

“Go on.”

“Two different weapons. Two different methods of dispatching the victims.”

“Why two, you’re asking yourself, if there’s only one perpetrator?” Prentiss said.

“Yes. Agent Hotchner’s case notes stated that he suspected that there might be a division in personality due to a childhood trauma, that the separation of Ronald and Dominique into two distinct personalities, that this might account for using two different weapons. I wondered what you thought about that theory, only one perpetrator, or if perhaps there might have been two perpetrators, and Ronald has decided it’s time to stop covering up for the person who got away.”

“You have given this case some thought,” Prentiss smiled.

“I’m not unfamiliar with your team’s work,” Sid said. Was that his polite way of intimating that he spent a lot of time rooting through their case files?

“It was hard to determine whether or not there might have been more than one perpetrator because Ms. LaBarré didn’t want to talk to us at the time of the first interview,” Reid said. “We had entertained the notion, but without firm evidence at the scene that there was more than one person committing the crimes, it was hard to pursue the notion.”

“We’ll see what she brings up,” Emily agreed.

“Interrogation Room 5,” Sid said, pausing at the appropriate door and unlocking it by tabbing in a code on the electric key panel.

“Is the entire facility on an electronic locking system?” Reid asked, watching his hand on the number pad.

“Yes,” Sid replied. “There’s a corresponding panel on the inside of the door. When you want out, key in the code, wait outside the door, and the guard will come to escort you out. The code is…” 

“Already got it,” Reid smiled.

“I thought you might,” he murmured. “Be careful with Katherine.”

“I promise she’ll be perfectly safe,” Sid assured him.

“I’m not worried,” Reid lied. He gave Spaulding a meaningful look. She gave a half nod, and seemed to understand what he was asking her to do without a word having been exchanged between them. Reid wanted her to go with Sid and protect Mouse, instead of remaining by his side. Spaulding had a conflict with that silent order, but she obviously understood why Reid wanted her to do that.

“Good luck with Max,” Prentiss added impishly. Spaulding gave Sid a small pat on the upper arm.

“Don’t worry, Agent. I got your back,” she said, following him away. Spaulding gave Reid a concerned backwards glance.


	4. Chapter 4

Reid and Prentiss were waiting in Interrogation Room 5 for some time.

Finally, there was a loud wolf whistle in the outer corridor. Reid looked to Prentiss, and she shrugged in reply. Seconds later, when Dominique LaBarré was escorted into the interrogation room, they understood the whistling. Reid’s eyes got a bit larger. Prentiss glanced up from the table, and stared as well. Reid stood to his feet and nodded hello. Dominique nodded back, offering a small smile. Prentiss raised up and shook Dominique’s shackled hand.

The guard hitched the wrist shackles to the ring on the tabletop. There was no question about whether or not to leave LaBarré in restraints, and Reid was grateful for that. Dominique was as tall as Reid was, and had about the same build. Underneath the smart skirt and blouse, the makeup, the painted nails, and the sweet smile, there was no mistaking that if this person wanted to do you harm, she would find a way. A certain hardness glittered back from her light brown eyes.

“Thank you for coming,” LaBarré said.

“You’re welcome,” Prentiss said. It was customary to let a female agent take the lead with a female prisoner, and Reid and Prentiss fell comfortably into that routine. LaBarré had other ideas though.

“I was hoping we’d be able to discuss this alone,” LaBarré said, directing her gaze at Reid.

“Are there aspects of this case that you are uncomfortable discussing with Agent Prentiss?” Reid asked.

“No, but I would rather talk to you alone,” LaBarré pressed.

“Protocol dictates…” Reid began. LaBarré smiled at him and he stopped.

“Agent Reid, are you afraid to be alone with me?” the prisoner whispered, not unhappy at the notion that she could frighten Reid.

“It’s Dr. Reid.”

“Dr. Reid, are you afraid I’ll do to you what I did to Brian and his friends?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“What I did, that isn’t who I am, Dr. Reid. You don't have to be afraid of me."

“Ms. LaBarré , as we’ve never discussed what it is, what you did, who you are, you’ll forgive me if I don’t automatically take you at your word when you say that.”

“Make her go away, and we’ll talk, just you and me, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I’ll tell you more than you want to know, beautiful.”

“Maybe I should leave, and you should explain yourself to Agent Prentiss instead,” Reid tested. “It is customary for a female agent to be present at all times to ensure the safety of a female prisoner.”

“Do I really make you that nervous? Let’s talk alone, beautiful,” LaBarré whispered sultrily, stroking one long nail against Reid’s closest hand. Her eyes landed on the golden ring on Reid’s finger. Reid did not flinch away from the touch even though it made him uncomfortable.

“If you two would rather have a private conversation, I can go catch up with Agent al Siddig and the others,” Prentiss offered. Reid gave her a dark look.

“Agent Sid? I’d keep a close eye on him if I were you. He was coming through the cafeteria block the other day with a group of teens, and this Muslim prisoner started cursing at him, throwing things, yelling at him.”

“What was the problem?” Reid asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t speak that shit. But Agent Sid walked up to him and started talking to him, low and deep and quiet-like. That guy tucked his tail between his legs, and returned to his table without another sound. I didn’t like the looks of that at all. There’s a lot of tension here between the Muslims, the blacks, the Latinos…. everyone, really.”

“We should stick to talking about your own case here, and stop worrying about Agent al Siddig,” Reid chided softly. LaBarré studied him, and a slow smile wrapped her face.

“All right. Anything you want.” 

“Where would you like to begin?” 

“Your mouth….”

“What?” Reid asked, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got a beautiful mouth. Where’s the big guy?” 

“The big guy?” Prentiss questioned.

“It was you and him at the initial interview. Dark hair– dark eyes – Darth Vader in a good suit,” LaBarré said, staring only at Reid.

“Agent Hotchner is back at Quantico,” Reid replied.

“Good. I was afraid he would come with you. That guy is a real hard-ass. Don’t know how you can stand to work with him.”

Reid and Prentiss exchanged a curious look. “He’s not all bad,” Reid shrugged one shoulder.

“A guy like him was never going to understand where I was coming from,” LaBarré mocked.

“But you think I will?” Reid asked.

“Yeah. You’ve been where I’ve been. You know what it’s like. Dickheads like him are always pushing guys like you and me around. It’s what gets them off.”

“Maybe I do understand,” Reid nodded.

“Don’t be coy. You know where I’m coming from. I watched him that day, how he talked to you, how he treated you. He barked orders at you – sit here, take notes, be quiet, don’t draw attention to yourself. I remember very well. Does he order you around all the time?”

“Day and night,” Reid nodded, eyes twinkling. 

“Why do you put up with him?”

“He’s my supervisor. It’s my job to obey his orders.”

“You ought to take him by surprise one of these days, and punch him in the mouth.”

“I’m sorry if Agent Hotchner rubbed you the wrong way in your initial interview.”

“So is that your secret kink? You like big strong guys like him bossing you around, telling you what to do?”

“Does Agent Hotchner remind you of Brian? Is that why you dislike him? Is that why you didn’t want to talk to him?” Reid asked.

“Dr. Reid, do you have a thing for that guy?” LaBarré asked, noticing how Reid was beginning to blush. She leaned closer to the table. “Do you sit at your desk and think about his big dick inside you?” Dominique whispered.

“I will leave you two alone after all,” Prentiss decided, rising up from her chair and patting Reid on the shoulder as she headed for the door. Spencer knew for a fact that Emily would be in the observation room behind him, watching every moment of the rest of the interrogation. That didn’t make him feel any better though. He would have preferred for her to stay right where she was.

“God, I thought she’d never leave. Where were we?” LaBarré asked.

“Discussing Agent Hotchner.”

“Yes, Agent Hotchner reminds me of Brian. You never answered my question. Do you think about….”

“Ms. LaBarré, let’s talk about you.”

“Let’s talk about you instead, pretty baby.” 

“Dr. Reid,” Spencer stressed.

“Dr. Pretty, let’s talk about you instead. Have you been fantasizing about having your boss’s big dick inside you?”

“Ms. LaBarré, we are not going down that road. You have taken a wrong turn. Put on your brakes, turn around, and come back. How long I stay here depends on what you really want to talk about, and my private sexual fantasies are not on the discussion list.”

“I’m gonna have to take that as a yes,” LaBarré grinned. “What a sexy pout you have? I bet you could do some real damage with that mouth.”

“I understand that you’re testing me to see how far you can go before I get up and leave like Agent Prentiss did. I understand you need to know my limits before you can push me over them. I get that. Let me save you some time. Get to a point, or I’m leaving.”

“Dr. Pretty, let me save you some time. Don’t waste your time pining after Darth Hotchner. Guys like that? Sex is all about them, what they want, how they feel. They don’t give a damn about you, what you need, or how you feel.”

“Did you have a sexual relationship with Brian, and he made you angry, and that’s why you killed him?” Reid asked.

“Me and Brian? No, Dr. Pretty. Brian was not my kind.”

“Not your kind?”

“He was straight, and he was a egotistical jackass, and he was my best friend’s crush, so I wasn’t going there on several counts of it being improper.”

“Tell me about your friend.”

“Tammy was a nice girl. She was my best friend. She deserved a lot better than Brian, but I could never get her to see him for what a bastard he was, until it was too late. I don't hear a lot from her now, but it's okay. I remind her of bad things. She was my best friend, and she was a nice girl."

Dark clouds moved over LaBarré’s face. Reid paused, watched, waited.

“Ms. LaBarré, why did you ask me here?” Spencer murmured.

“I think you’ll understand me.”

“Why now? Why after all these years?”

“I want someone to understand why I did what I did. I don’t want my mom to keep thinking I snapped because some dickhead called me a dirty name. I’m made of tougher shit than that. That’s what your boss told her – that I did what I did because I had an altercation with Brian over my sexual orientation, and that’s why I killed Brian and his friends. It’s important to me that my mom knows why I did what I did, before it’s too late. I have a feeling my time is almost up.”

“What do you mean? You got life plus twenty. You pleaded out to avoid the death sentence.”

“Biggest mistake of my life. Don’t get me wrong. What I did, it had to be done. They didn’t deserve to live. But I don’t deserve to live either. Because murder is wrong. What I did was wrong.”

Reid stopped again.

“Ms. LaBarré, do you mean to do yourself harm?” 

“What?” Dominique asked, frowning in puzzlement.

“Do you mean to take your own life? You must realize that because I am aware of this, I will take measures to stop you.”

“Dr. Pretty, I’m not going to kill myself. I’m worried someone else is going to kill me.”

“Why tell me this?”

“I want someone to explain to my mom what happened.”

Reid folded his file closed and put down his pencil. “Talk to me,” he murmured. “Tell me what’s wrong.”


	5. Chapter 5

“How’s it going there?” Hotch asked. Prentiss sighed quietly, shaking her head.

“Reid and LaBarré are having a good discussion, but LaBarré hasn’t offered any reasons yet why she committed these crimes.”

“Why aren’t you with them?”

“Because LaBarré wanted to talk to Reid alone, and I felt for me to remain in the room would have hampered their discussion.”

“Why did she ask us in?”

Prentiss tilted her head as she moved the phone to her other shoulder.

“She was feeding Reid a line about her time being short, that she’s afraid someone is going to kill her. She wants someone to talk to her mother about why she killed Brian and his friends.”

“Is she in danger?”

“My instincts say no, but I could be wrong,” Prentiss offered.

“Prentiss, I trust your instincts. So there has to be another reason that LaBarré wanted to talk to us, why she wanted Reid specifically.”

“She’s been flirting with him non-stop.”

“Reid can handle himself. He can find out what LaBarré wants, if we give him enough time.”

“We do know one thing.” 

“What’s that?”

“LaBarré told Reid that she didn’t want to talk to you in the initial interview ten years ago because he thought you were being a dick to Reid.”

“LaBarré remembers ten minutes of time from ten years ago like that?”

“Reid remembers, but then he’s Reid, so that shouldn’t be a surprise. Were you being a dick?”

“I don’t remember,” Hotch stammered, hoping he hadn’t been.

* * *

“Why don’t we start in the beginning?” Reid suggested.

"Everything was darkness and water, and God said, ‘Let there be light’?” LaBarré smiled.

“Not quite that far back,” Reid hinted at a reply smile.

“I was in the doctor’s office reading magazines, feeling down, wondering how long I have, and I saw your picture there.”

“What?”

“I work in the doctor’s office—the counselor, not the medical doctor. That’s my job. I’m the prison counselor’s receptionist. It’s a kick. I like it. I manage the office, manage the waiting room. It’s great. I am the queen bitch in charge there, and they all do what I say. It was a slow afternoon, and I was reading magazines.”

“You were reading magazines?”

“National Geographic, and there you were.” 

“What?” Reid snickered.

“You didn’t know?” 

“Um…no.”

“The article was about this British dude who dug up a pirate queen in the Carolinas.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize they did an article on Dr. Allison. He’ll be terribly flattered.”

“You should look it up later. It’s a good read. That’s so cool, how they do facial reconstructions from old bones that way.”

“The use of modern forensics is being applied more frequently archeological discoveries from centuries, even millennia ago,” Reid interjected.

“It was a nice picture of you. You look all sweaty and dirty and tan and stuff. You were smiling. Not so serious like now. Anyhow, I saw your picture, and I thought about you, and remembered Darth Hotchner, and I thought, well, maybe I’ll see if we could talk. Maybe you could help me.” 

“How can I help you?”

“By explaining things to my mom.”

“Why not tell her in person? Why not write to her? Explain things in a letter?”

“She’s moved since I’ve been in here. I don’t know where. She never writes back. She never visits. One of the kids from my old neighborhood, he got himself locked up in here, and he was talking to me about her, and I….it got me to thinking about her again too, and how we left things. I want to fix things with her but I can’t, because she never visits, and she never writes me back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. I understand why she’s being this way. It’s all good. Her God doesn’t approve of people like me, so she can’t be a good Christian woman and have me in her life. It means everything to her – being a good Christian woman. I wouldn’t take that away from her. God saved her life, you know? She told me. The church took her in when she had nobody and nothing. When her mom kicked her out, and she had nowhere to go, the church ladies were her family. They took her in. Those ladies, they helped my mom get an education. They helped her get a job. They helped her raise us kids. I won’t make my mom choose between pleasing God or talking to me.”

“But you’re her child,” Reid protested.

LaBarré frowned slightly and shrugged one shoulder. Pain had fleeted through her features and then vanished behind it all.

“She’s got two other daughters. I’m not that big a deal. If I were her son, if I was a man she could be show off to the church ladies, then it might make a difference. But I’m not. I’m not going to give her grandbabies. I can’t make her proud of me. She can’t look at me and not wonder what she did wrong.”

“It wasn’t something she did wrong. It wasn’t something you did wrong either,” Reid murmured. “You should try to contact her again.”

“I can’t. You know? You gotta let go at some point. You can’t carry it forever, Dr. Pretty. Some of it, you gotta put down. Some of it, the stuff that hurts the most, you gotta put it down and walk away, and hope it doesn’t follow you.”

“Have you always had a problem accepting your sexual orientation and gender misidentification?” 

“What?”

“Have you always had a problem, being who you are?”

“Oh honey, I don’t have a problem with being who I am. I’ve always been fine with myself. That’s like asking me if I’m mad because I have brown eyes. I’ve never had a problem with who I am. It’s the rest of the world that has a problem. You may noticed, I don’t blend well. I make people uncomfortable.”

“You do stand out,” Reid nodded. “Would you be comfortable, talking to me about your childhood?”

“Are you a psychiatrist or a counselor? What kind of doctor are you?”

“I have doctorates in Chemistry, Mathematics, and Engineering, and undergraduate degrees in Psychology, Sociology, and Philosophy.”

Dominique blinked at him, shocked. “Do you sleep? Or do they plug you into an outlet at night?”

“I sleep,” Reid smirked.

“When you were little, Dr. Reid, what did you want to do with your life?”

“I wanted to cure my mother’s schizophrenia.” 

“Any luck with that?” LaBarré asked.

“Not so much,” Reid shook his head. “Schizophrenia. That’s some serious shit.” 

“Yes, it is.”

“She’s afraid of aliens or something?”

“Mostly her paranoia focuses on the government invading her life, destroying her mind.”

“Then you go and become a suit?”

“Perhaps not the best move,” Reid admitted wryly.

“Do you talk to her? Do you visit? Does she know who you are?”

“Some days, yes, she’s perfectly lucid and knows who I am. Other days, she thinks I’m one of her students. She used to be a college professor, medieval literature. On really bad days, she thinks I’m an imposter who has replaced her real son.”

“That’s deep. What about your dad?” 

“Not in the picture.”

“Mine either. I met him once.” 

“What was he like?”

“A nervous guy who couldn’t handle looking at my mother by the light of day. It was like he couldn’t believe he had actually slept with her. She scared him, just by being herself. I was mad he couldn’t handle it, but I felt so sorry for him too.”

“Dominique, you’re right.” 

“About what?”

“I do understand,” Reid admitted. 

“So your dad is spineless too?”

Reid shook his head, laughing softly. LaBarré laughed.

“Okay. I retract that comment. It wasn’t polite,” she said. “But I get what you’re saying. Your parents couldn’t handle being together, so they split.”

“Yes. They separated when I was ten.”

“I got two years and a baby sister before my dad was gone.”

“What about you? What did you want to be when you grew up?” Spencer asked. Dominique was so delighted with the question.

“Oh, baby, I wanted to be Madonna. The singer, not Virgin Mary, Mother of God and all that. I wanted to wear makeup and put on a bra and dance in front of adoring crowds. Wiggle my ass with the best of them. I would put on my mother’s underwear, and jump around in front of the mirror, since I was…well, since I was too young to know this is a boy, that is a girl, and people do not like when you get the two mixed up.”

“Your mother – she caught you dressed in her underwear, dancing around?”

“She caught me several times. She would beat the hell out of me every time, or at least she’d tried. I must have reeked of sin, baby, because she spent a lot of time beating me. But I kept doing it.”

“This led to conflicts between you and your mother?”

“Yes. Things only got worse as I got older. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t pick up a ball and go play with the other boys. Why couldn’t I get caught feeling-up the girls around the corner instead of going down on the pretty Goth boy in my art class? Why couldn’t I be a man? Like I could wake up one day, and suddenly like football, and become a star quarterback? She didn’t understand that I’m not a man. I don’t see a man when I look in the mirror. I don’t feel like a man. I feel like a woman, but I’m in this weird body that isn’t mine.”

“That’s called gender identification disorder. Children are often very young when this diagnosis is made. You should know – it’s nothing you did wrong, or anything your mother did wrong either. It was never a conscious choice you made. It’s who you are, as natural to you as your skin color or your hair color or your eye color. There have been psychiatrists who have tried to ‘cure’ gender identification disorder, but those procedures have been discredited as being more injurious than helpful. You are not going to wake up one morning and suddenly change. That doesn’t mean you can’t like football though.”

“I hate football,” LaBarré pined. 

“Me too,” Reid whispered.

“You don’t know how many footballers would yell filthy language at me in the halls at school, and then come begging later, telling me how beautiful I was, trying to talk me into doing this or that. Fucking hypocrites.”

“How old were you when you left home?”

“I left when I was sixteen. Never went back. Not as Ronald anyway.”

“You visited your mom as Dominique?”

“I sold Mary Kay to her twice a month for years. I was good. I was so good. Oh, Dr. Pretty, you don’t know how that hurt. But I did it. I wanted to see her so bad. I put myself together, I did myself up, and I knocked on her door, and she let me in. She had no idea who I was. She had no idea. She was so sweet to me. She   
treated me so nice. ‘Sit here, honey. Have some coffee. Tell me about yourself.’ I would sit two feet from her, closer than me to you, and she never even knew who I was. I loved talking to her while I made her up. I told her how I finished high school, went to beauty school, put myself through working days and nights at any job I could find. I made her feel so good about herself. I made her feel beautiful. She is beautiful. Where do you think I got this face? No man ever made my mother feel as beautiful as I could. It made me feel good to make her feel good about herself, made me feel so good to see her smile, but it hurt so bad too. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Reid cleared his throat and nodded.

“We will do almost anything to make our mothers happy.”

“I would! I would do anything to make her happy, anything to make her proud of me, even after all these years, and that’s why I need someone to talk to her. I want you to do that for me.”

“If you want me to talk to your mother, you have to be honest with me.”

“I am being honest with you.”

“You have to tell me about Brian. You have to tell me why you did what you did.”

A distant claxon made Reid and LaBarré both look up at once.

“Coffee break?” Reid joked softly, glancing around. It wasn’t like either of them could see anything. Dominique did not look at all comforted by Reid’s humor. She shrank down in her seat and shook her head no. Another claxon sounded, closer than the first.

“That sounds like a lot of trouble. You better ring for the guard, Dr. Pretty, and get your butt out of here.”

Reid got up from the table and pushed the button by the door.

“You don’t want to talk anymore?” he asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Ring him again?” LaBarré asked. Spencer pressed the button once more, more forcefully this time.

There was no reply. He walked over and tapped on the one-way glass, then waved through it. No reply there either. Reid turned around and looked at LaBarré, who was coiling up tight, and staring fearfully at the handcuffs holding her to the table. The claxons both kept ringing.

Reid picked up his bag and opened the flap.

“Aren’t you leaving?” LaBarré asked. Reid shook his head no and pulled out a small screwdriver set.

“One of those is the fire alarm. I am not leaving you here,” Reid said, setting to work on the handcuffs.

“Chivalry?” Dominique teased him. 

“Common decency,” Reid answered.

“About as rare as unicorn tears,” Dominique chuckled nervously.

The claxons hadn’t stopped. More were beginning to sound, closer than the first. Reid could hear three distinct alarms going off now. A fourth replied.

“That sounds bad,” Dominique shivered.

“In case of a fire, do you know how the cell blocks are evacuated?”

“There are firewalls in each building to prevent any fire from spreading from one cell block to the next, one building to the next. If there was immediate danger of fire in every building, then we would all be evacuated in a neat and orderly fashion. There would be guards on every observation tower with guns to make sure we stayed in line while we were in the yard.”

“How far are we from the guards’ station by the visitation center?”

“Not far, but that sounds like it’s coming from the direction of the guards’ station.”

“Then how far are we from the doctor’s office?”

“Three corridors away, but why do you want to go there?”

Another round of claxons were sounding. Reid gave a gasp of relief as the handcuffs came loose.

“If we can’t get out the same way we came in, we’re going to the doctor’s office and see if we can find out what is going on,” Reid said.

“Doctor Jeanne isn’t in her office today.”

“If we can’t get to the guards’ station, we should head for the doctor’s office,” Reid said. LaBarré nodded in agreement. Reid hesitated for a moment and then snapped the loose handcuff around his own wrist. “How fast can you move in those heels?” he asked. LaBarré kicked off the pumps under the table. Reid picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and keyed the code to open the interrogation room door.

The lights in the corridor went dark. Safety lights in the corners at the ceiling came on. LaBarré stuck close to Reid as he opened the observation room door. Prentiss was gone. Her jacket was on the chair. Her file was on the table. Her notes had stopped mid-sentence. Reid collected her things and put them in his satchel.

“I’m sorry I got you into this, Dr. Reid,” LaBarré whispered mournfully. Reid turned to give her a penetrating look.

“Come on. I don’t know how much time we have. We need to hurry.”


	6. Chapter 6

“What do you mean the entire facility has gone into lock-down?” Hotch was bellowing into the phone. Morgan took a sharp turn to get onto the Beltway, and narrowly missed taking the SUV airborne over the entrance ramp railing. “I’ve got two agents in there doing a custodial interview. I want to know everything you know, before you know it. Is that understood, Agent al Siddig?”

Hotch slammed the phone down hard in his lap in frustration, and rubbed his forehead. Morgan glanced back into the rearview – JJ was keeping up with him just fine. Rossi was strapped into the passenger seat and holding on tight, eyes closed.

“There was a fight in the cafeteria. Different racial and religious factions were going at each other. One of the guards got mixed up in the middle, trying to separate them, and things have escalated from there. First it was only the cafeteria, but now the entire facility is under lock-down,” Hotch explained to Morgan.

“Any news from Prentiss or Reid?” Morgan asked.

“Nothing yet,” Hotch murmured. His phone slipped out of his lap. He bent down to retrieve it, and banged his head on the dash as Morgan swerved through traffic.

“I can get us there in twenty,” Morgan promised.

“The emergency response team and the hostage negotiations team will meet us on site,” Hotch replied, straightening back up and rubbing his forehead. He was dialing his phone. Morgan heard Reid’s cheerful voice mail picking up.

" ‘This is Dr. Spencer Reid. Sorry I am unable to take your call. Please leave me a message and a phone number’.”

Hotch closed his eyes and clicked the message off. He dialed Prentiss’s number next.

“What?! What?!” Prentiss answered anxiously. 

“PRENTISS!” Hotch shouted.

“Hotch!” Emily shouted. “There’s been…” 

“I know! We know! An incident.”

“The whole place is on lock-down.” 

“Where are you?”

“I’m in the right front observation tower, in the guards’ office. I was in the visitation area, getting a soda from the vending machine. One of the guards came in and grabbed me and dragged me up here, locked the door and left. I can’t get out! I keep hearing gunfire coming from the cafeteria. The prisoner escape alarm went off. Then fire alarms went off. I can see smoke from here, coming from the central portion of the facility, where the cafeteria is.” 

“Are you safe?”

“For now.”

“Stay where you are. That’s an order. There was a fight. The guards intervened, and matters escalated from there.”

“But, Hotch!”

“Do you know where Reid is?”

“He was in the interview room with LaBarré, but the guard wouldn’t let me go back for him!”

“It’s okay, Prentiss,” Hotch said. “Stay where you are. Stay right there. If you can’t get out, chances are that no one without the key code can get in. You are safe where you are. Stay there. Are you armed?”

“I’m armed, and there are also extra weapons stored here in the guards’ station. Hotch, we’ve got to find Reid! We’ve got to find Mouse!”

“We’re ten minutes away,” Hotch said.

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” Morgan shouted to be heard.

“I’ve got a call coming in. It’s Reid!” Prentiss gasped.

Hotch barked out one syllable, but the line went dead.

* * * 

“Hi, Emmy.”

“REID! Where are you!?”

“Please don’t shout. Are you safe?” Spencer asked softly.

“I think so,” Emily replied. “Are you?”

“For the moment,” Reid replied calmly. “At least the alarms have stopped. What is going on?”

“A conflict in the cafeteria went out of control, according to Hotch and Morgan. The guards intervened, and made matters worse. Someone started a fire. I keep hearing gunfire as well. The entire complex is on lock-down.”

“Is Agent al Siddig with you?” 

“No.”

“Mouse isn’t answering her phone,” Reid worried.

“She’s with Agent al Siddig. She's got Max and Spaulding with her too. Don’t worry. She’s okay. You know al Siddig will get her out of here as fast as he can. You know he will.”

“She’s not answering her phone,” Reid continued to worry.

“Give me her number. I will try her too.” 

“I….I have to go.”

“Reid, where are you?”

"We’re hiding in the prison counselor’s office,” Spencer whispered before his line disconnected.

* * *

“Whoever it was, they moved on,” Dominique reported. Reid murmured a sigh of relief. “I got the computer up and going,” LaBarré said, turning around in her chair. Reid put away his phone and took a deep breath. Dominique reached down under the desk top and rummaged around in a copy-paper box. She returned with a pair of sneakers.

“What’s that?” Reid asked, peeking into the box. It was filled to the brim with heels, pumps, and flats.

“Some days, a girl needs comfortable shoes,” LaBarré answered, sliding long feet into the sneakers and tying them, pulling Reid left and right as she did so. “Doctor Jeanne brings them to me. She’s the sweetest woman. I really like her. You want the chair, baby?”

“I’m not very good with computers,” Reid replied.

“What do you need then?” LaBarré asked, wiggling her fingers over the keys.

“Any chance your doctor has access to the prison’s blueprints or layout?”

“Why would you want that?”

“So we can find the most direct path out of here. A list of security codes would be ever so helpful too.”

“We’d be safe here. Doctor Jeanne’s office is safe. No one knows the code but her and me.”

“We walked three corridors to get here, and didn’t see another person. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Not really. This time of day isn’t normally visiting hours, so there shouldn’t be any visitors except for professionals like yourself. You’re only going to see the guards, or prisoners being escorted to and from destinations—work details, doctor’s appointments, things like that. We do lunch in rotation, one cell block at a time, those that are allowed out for meals, that is. I only get to join the others for meals if I’m dressed in my drabs. If the guards are busy with an incident in the cafeteria, then it shouldn’t come as a surprise not to see anyone. Who’s Mouse?”

Reid shook his head, not answering. He was bending down over LaBarré’s shoulder to see the computer screen.

“Can you pull up the main drive?” he asked.

“Is Mouse another agent? Is she in the complex? Is she your girlfriend?” LaBarré wondered. She touched the golden ring on Reid’s hand.

“She is not my girlfriend. She is not another agent. Yes, she is in the complex.”

“Who is she?”

“My daughter,” Reid replied. “Main drive?” 

“You named your daughter ‘Mouse’?”

“It’s her nickname,” Reid growled softly.

“Margaret, Mary, Martha, Marsha, Millicent?” LaBarré batted around names, clicking keys.

“Katherine. Main drive?” Reid repeated.

“Why do you call her ‘Mouse’?” LaBarré pressed.

“Because that’s what she wants to be called,” Reid sighed.

“Why?”

“She’s never actually told me why,” Reid smiled.

“Why did you bring your baby into a place like this?” LaBarré shook her head at Reid.

“Because she wanted to see what I do,” Reid defended. The contents of the main drive appeared on screen. “No outside access?”

“Yes,” LaBarré said as she clicked a few more buttons.

Reid rummaged through his bag with one hand, and retrieved a thumb drive. He unplugged the printer from the USB port, and slid the thumb drive into the open slot. It blinked in the near darkness and came to life.

“What’s that?” LaBarré asked.

“Wait for it. Wait for it,” Reid whispered.

The computer screen blinked, then went black, then refocused.


	7. Chapter 7

“REID!” Penelope Garcia shrieked, whipping her head up towards the monitor where the doctor’s face appeared, along side that of an unfamiliar woman.

“Shhhhh. Hi, Garcia. Are you busy?” Reid attempted a smile.

“If by busy you mean trying to keep my head from exploding while Derek Morgan screams in one ear, and Aaron Hotchner screams in the other, yeah, I might be. Can I tell them you’re okay? Who’s your new friend?”

“Penelope, Dominique. Dominique, Penelope,” Reid said. LaBarré lifted a hand to wave, and the handcuffs appeared. Reid’s left wrist moved around.

“Hey,” LaBarré offered solemnly.

“Hey,” Garcia nodded. “Nice jewelry,” she added.

“Thanks,” LaBarré bubbled, lifting her wrist and Reid’s wrist again.

“Things okay there, hon?” Garcia asked Reid.

“Could be better?” he replied meekly. “Can you give me a detailed layout of the facility? I need to find Mouse.”

“Hotch has been in contact with Agent al Siddig. He is in the guards’ office in the left front guard tower, and Mouse is with him.”

Reid exhaled a sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a long moment.

“Don’t worry, Boo. Your baby’s okay,” Garcia smiled. “They can’t get out of the tower because the passage down is blocked by fail-safe doors, but no one is getting in there either. Both the front towers have a helipad on top, so the plan is to get them out by air. They’ve got a chopper en route, actually, from the Baltimore field office.”

“Thank you,” Reid sighed.

“You’re welcome. Oh look! Like ten gray hairs just popped out of your head. Parenthood will do that to you,” Garcia smiled, trying too hard to be light- hearted. Reid pushed his hair out of his eyes, and LaBarré’s hand followed. “Don’t worry about Mouse. She’s safe. What you need to do is get your own behind out of there. Pulling up the schematics now. You want me to pan right to left or left to right?”

“Left to right, floor by floor, starting from the bottom,” Reid answered. Garcia’s face disappeared, but the blueprints for the facility began to materialize on screen. LaBarré watched Reid studying the prints. “You can go faster,” Spencer murmured, rubbing a set of fingertips over the monitor’s face. “Back. Back. There. Stop. Prentiss is in the guards’ office in the front right tower.”

“I know.”

“Prentiss had very sketchy details before. Do we know anything else?”

“Hotch said there was an altercation between factions in the lunch room, and it escalated from there. Block 1 is in the lunch room, approximately 300 prisoners. Unknown injured. Unknown dead. For the moment, everything is contained, except there seems to be a fire. The sprinkler system kicked in, but we don’t’ know how effective that has been. All the other blocks of prisoners are secure. Firewalls and fail-safe doors should keep the fire from spreading out of the central building, if the sprinkler system wasn’t able to douse the blaze. All prisoners are accounted for except for those in transit at the time of the lockdown, or who were in different locations with permission, like yourself and your lovely companion.”

“How many are we talking about?”

“If I can have access to the system?” Garcia requested.

“Do you know the doctor’s password?” Reid asked LaBarré.

“That’s okay. I’m already in,” Garcia sighed. “The last log-in was two minutes before all the excitement started. There are sixteen prisoners not accounted for either in the cafeteria or in their cell block.”

“Sixteen. Not so bad,” Reid murmured.

“That does not take into consideration the possibility that some may have left the lunch room area before all the excitement started, and the fire alarm sounded, and the lockdown began,” Garcia reminded him.

“Oh hell,” Reid whispered. LaBarré gave a half smile. “Garcia? Can you get me a list of the security key codes for the entire prison complex?”

“I might be able to if the security system is linked to the main frame. Reid, maybe you should stay put and let Hotch come to you,” Garcia suggested.

“You tell Hotch not to do anything dramatic,” Reid barked.

“Sure,” Garcia smirked. “Boss Man is going to listen to me tell him to sit pretty and wait, knowing you’re in a prison under lock-down, and could become the favorite squeeze toy for any number of thieves, cut- throats, and killers? Reid, that is so not going to happen.”

“Tell him there’s no need to come in here, guns blazing. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. Tell him that Ms. LaBarré and I will come to him.”

“Are you done with the schematics?” Garcia murmured.

“Yes. We’re signing off. I have my phone, and it seems to be working for now. I’m putting it on vibrate, for obvious reasons. We’d like to get through here as quickly and quietly as possible.”

“Be safe,” Garcia murmured. Her face reappeared for a moment. She waved, and then the screen went blank. It reverted back to the contents of the main drive of the doctor’s computer.

In the bluish glow, LaBarré looked up at Reid.

“So….?” Reid began, slinging his bag over his shoulder once more. He pulled out the small screwdriver set again, and started fiddling with the handcuffs. “It goes without saying, you might need both hands. I might too. You need to stick close. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re bossy?”

“Dominique….”

“What if I’d rather stay here?”

“You’re welcome to stay here and wait if you’d rather, but I would prefer you came with me, so I know you’re safe.”

“Why do you care if I’m safe or not?”

“Because we aren’t done talking yet, and it’s rude to leave before the conversation is finished.”

LaBarré rubbed both wrists and continued to stare. “You mean to tell me that you had one look at those blueprints and you know the most direct path out of this building?” she asked.

“Yes. There are actually three routes we could use, which we will investigate one at a time to assess their viability.”

“Are you bullshitting me, Dr. Pretty?”

“No. I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything I read, and almost everything that I hear.”

“Why are you wasting your time with people like me? You should be… I dunno… memorizing all the entrances to Fort Knox and living like a king in Switzerland or something.”

“One – it’s cold in Switzerland, and I don’t like to be cold. Two—it’s only money. How much do you really need? Three – I don’t consider you a waste of time.”

“She’s very lucky to have you,” Dominique whispered, taking Reid’s hand and patting his ring. Reid straightened his bag and cleared his throat.

“Yes, he is. Are you done with my hand? Can we go?”

“He?” LaBarré’s jaw dropped. “Did you say ‘he’?” 

“Can we get out of here?” Reid whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

In the still of the dark corridor, Reid’s phone vibrated loudly. It wouldn’t have been so bad – he could have ignored it as he had ignored it the last sixteen times it buzzed against his hip. Except that this time, Dominique was pressed against his side, and when his phone vibrated, LaBarré gave a tiny squeal of alarm and jolted back from him. Reid sighed impatiently and yanked her back against the wall.

“Sorry,” LaBarré murmured softly against Reid’s ear. “Is that your boyfriend again? Persistent, isn’t he?”

“Shh,” Reid murmured in reply.

“Maybe if you answer him, he’ll stop trying to call you,” LaBarré suggested.

Reid covered her mouth with his fingertips. He drew back into the shadows. They were pressed into the head of a corridor that led to another row of offices. They stayed still and silent as a muscular white man in prisoner’s drabs moved past them. He had slicked-back gray-brown hair and pattern of scars on his face. He flashed a flashlight ahead to light the corridor, then moved forward again.

LaBarré winced in imagined discomfort as the large man went past their place of concealment. Dominique went to the other side of the corridor. Reid was on one side of the wall, and LaBarré was now on the other side.

The man stopped. He sniffed the air. He turned around, flashed the light about, and spun around again. His light raced over Reid and away, but came back again to focus on him. Reid had a hand in his bag – what he was reaching for, LaBarré didn’t have any idea. The large man leered fiendishly at Spencer.

“What have we here?” he asked as he came into the head of their corridor.

LaBarré was coiled up in the shadows but took two steps towards them. Reid shook his head no. The man was staring directly at Reid. Spencer was holding perfectly still, both hands behind his back, shrinking away as if in fright. The light went across his features, and he closed his eyes, turning his head to one side. The large man rushed forward, glee lighting his hideous face.

There was a sudden grunt and glow and sparking from between the two of them. The big man dropped to the ground and did not move. Reid calmly picked up the flashlight and put it in his bag.

LaBarré had appeared right next to him. She pulled Reid away from the lump on the floor.

“We should go,” Reid murmured. LaBarré followed, glancing back at unconscious prisoner.

“What did you do to him?”

“Taser,” Reid whispered back, putting something in his palm back in his bag.

“How did you get a stun gun past the guards?”

“Because it doesn’t look like a stun gun,” Reid replied, showing him what looked like a small computer mouse for a laptop.

“Where did you get that?”

“I adapted it myself. It was surprisingly easy to fit the necessary elements into the housing. Looks perfectly normal, doesn’t it?”

“Why did you bring it?” LaBarré asked.

“Because my last custodial interview didn’t go very well.”

“What happened?”

“I almost got killed,” Reid replied.

“I’m surprised at you, Dr. Reid. What happened to ‘First, do no harm’?”

“That’s from the Hippocratic Oath, and I’m not that kind of doctor,” Reid clarified.

“Is he going to be okay?” LaBarré wondered.

“Eventually,” Reid said, pushing Dominique to make her move a little faster. “Up ahead and to your left, there should be an entrance door to the hospital ward.”

“Yes. I can see it.”

Reid peered over LaBarré’s shoulder. The sound of breaking glass and gunfire and screaming made them both wince and withdraw.

“I don’t think we’ll be going that way,” LaBarré whispered.

“Through the hospital ward to the ambulance bay is the most direct route of escape,” Reid disagreed. There was more gunfire up ahead.

“You’re clearly not the only one who thought of that,” LaBarré replied as they crouched down. More gunfire. More screams.

“Damn it,” Reid frowned. “We have to get closer.” 

“Why do we have to get closer?”

“There may be people in there who need our help.” 

“If we go in there, we may need help too.”

“You can stay here if you want….” Reid offered.

“And wait for Sleeping Beauty over there to regain his senses? No thank you.”

“Then come along, and follow my lead.”

“Who do you think I am – Ginger Rogers?” LaBarré snapped.


	9. Chapter 9

Hotch was pacing a groove in the pavement in the parking lot outside the correctional facility. A helicopter was taking off from the top of the left tower, and would soon be landing in the parking lot where the task forces had begun to assemble and build their make-shift command center. The FBI agents from the Baltimore office were assembled there, as well as the guards from the prison who were on the outside and able to help. They numbered thirty in all, plus Hotchner’s BAU team.

“There were sixteen prisoners not accounted for, those who were in transit at the time the incident began,” Morgan was explaining to JJ and Rossi, as Garcia had very recently explained to him. “Prentiss is in the right front guard tower, and she is secure for the moment. Hotch told her to stay put.”

“We can send the helicopter back for her once they’ve landed here and disembarked,” Rossi replied, watching the gray metal bird beginning to descend slowly from above, the blades whipping the air and pulling up gravel from the parking lot.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Garcia said her last contact with him was fifteen minutes ago. He was in the prison counselor’s office, which is over here, very close to the interview and visitation area,” Morgan pointed to the schematics on his tablet screen.

“His most direct route out would be through the hospital ward,” JJ pointed out.

“Let’s hope he decides on an indirect route, because there was gunfire reported from that section just minutes ago,” Morgan replied.

Hotch stepped back to allow the helicopter to land, keeping a nervous eye on the blades as the metal beast came to rest on the ground. The doors swung open, and Max leapt out, pulling Mouse along with himself. He reached back and offered a hand to Spaulding, who shook her head at him. But she did accept his hand. Agent al Siddig came out the opposite side.

Hotch’s eyes fell hard on the young agent. Sid definitely felt the weight of that heavy gaze. Mouse’s face went from self-assured to doubtful to terrified. She ducked and raced over to Hotch, taking one of his hands. He diverted his attention to her.

“Where’s Papa? He’s not with you?! He’s not answering his phone! Where’s Papa?” she blurted angrily and fearfully. “Where’s Papa?”

“Katherine…” Hotch soothed, trying to be comforting by petting her arm. She smacked his hands away and continued to cry.

“Why are you standing around here? You have to go back in and get him too!” she shouted. “MAX?! she whirled around. “MAX?! You have to get Papa out!”

Volchenkov scooped Mouse up and held her close. She howled against his shoulder, and kicked at his legs.

“You said he was already out,” Mouse sobbed. “Why did you lie to me? Why did you say he was okay?”

“Myshka, listen to me. Your papa will be fine. I am going back in to get him,” Max assured her.

“I don’t think…” Hotch began to say when Max gave him such a look.

“Do you mean to tell me I wouldn’t be useful to you?” Volchenkov murmured. “I find that very hard to imagine.”

“The fewer people we have to worry about in there, the better,” Hotch answered without answering.

“I would think the more, the merrier,” Max insisted.

“Schematics?” Spaulding questioned, inserting herself next to Morgan.

“Still no contact with the inside in regard to hostage negotiations?” al Siddig asked Hotch as Max and he continued to stare at each other.

“Hostage?” Mouse whimpered. Max petted her hair and turned his death-glare onto al Siddig.

“No. We have had no contact with the guards or the prisoners in the cafeteria area,” Hotch replied.

“Myshka, you need to pull yourself together and be helpful. There will be no more sniveling,” Max whispered to Mouse, who scrubbed a hand across her wet face and dropped back down to the ground, swallowing back hiccups.

“Can I have my gun? I can help,” Mouse said. Agent al Siddig drew in a sharp breath.

“The child is joking, of course,” Max said. 

“Who the hell are you people?” Sid asked.

“That is a long conversation I will enjoy having with you, if we fail to bring the child’s father back out of this, alive and unharmed,” Max warned.

“The three points of entry closest to Reid’s last known location are here, here, and here,” Morgan said. Spaulding nodded in agreement. Hotch looked over the tablet as Morgan put it down in the middle between them all. “The ambulance bay and hospital ward is a no-go. Reid would know better than to risk going through a hazardous situation like that. That gives us the kitchen…”

“Also a no-go because it’s right next to the cafeteria,” Hotch said.

“That leaves the morgue, which is directly opposite the hospital.”

“What’s this?” JJ asked, putting a finger down on the screen. The image leapt wildly at her touch and magnified on the area in question.

“That’s the heating-cooling air vent system,” al Siddig answered.

“We’re too big to get through,” Max added. 

“Maybe you’re too big…” JJ began.

“I would fit!” Mouse exclaimed. Max touched her shoulder and bent to whisper to her.

“Don’t make me handcuff you to the guard station.”

“I don’t think we should discount the possibility of entering through the hospital section,” Rossi said.

“Hotch?” Morgan questioned. Aaron was staring down at the schematics as Morgan zoomed back out to show the entire complex again.

“Morgan, you take a ten-person team to the ambulance bay and hospital entrance. Assess the situation there. Report back to me. JJ, you and Spaulding go investigate the ventilation system. If you can fit, report back to me, but do not go in without my specific directive. Take a coil camera with you.”

“I should remain here in case they do call for hostage negotiations,” Rossi said as Hotch looked up to him.

“Exactly my thoughts,” Aaron agreed. 

“Where will you be?” Max asked.

“You, and I, and Agent al Siddig will go to the right front observation tower. We will coordinate with Agent Prentiss, and decide the best course of action.”

“What about me?” Mouse asked.

“How well do you read maps?” Hotch asked.

“I got an A in geography,” Mouse replied. Hotch gave her Morgan’s tablet, and helped put a com-mic in and behind her ear.

“We will contact you and report what we see from the inside. Your job is to record our observations on the map. See if we can tie into the prison’s main frame and gain access to the security system, the cameras, the alarms, the vital systems.”

“You sure you don’t need another gun in there?” Mouse asked hopefully. Hotch reached for his handcuffs. “I’ll be right here if you need me, taking observation reports,” she sighed.


	10. Chapter 10

“Mouse? This is Agent Morgan.” 

“Hi, Agent Morgan.”

“We’re at the entrance to the ambulance bay of the hospital ward. Are the others in position yet? Has Hotch given the signal?”

“Agent Jareau radioed back that she and Lieutenant Spaulding will fit through the vents, but Agent Hotchner told them to hold up and wait for his signal. He told them to get as close as possible to the cafeteria vents, and to lower a coil-camera inside and report back. What’s a coil camera?”

“It’s a long, fiber-optic tube with a camera inside. We use it to see into danger zones, around corners, into closed and blocked areas, before sending agents inside, in order to assess the situation and decide the best course of action.”

“So he is keeping them busy and keeping them safe at the same time?”

“He is not ‘keeping them busy’,” Morgan chided Mouse’s sarcasm.

“I don’t know about Agent Jareau, but I do know that Lieutenant Spaulding survived two tours of duty in combat zones. She flew in and out of danger all the time. She works on a secret security detail. Really. She’s not going to cry if she breaks a nail.”

“That’s not the point, Mouse. This is about risking as few people as possible to accomplish the goal of the mission.”

“It’s called the minimal loss scenario,” Rossi said from Mouse’s right. She nodded quietly to him.

“Where’s Hotch?” Morgan asked.

“He and Max and Sid are landing on the right front tower now,” Rossi said.

“All that testosterone in one place at one time. I bet they’ll arm wrestle to see decide who gets to go through the door first,” Mouse observed mischievously.

“No, they won’t,” Rossi told her pointedly. Morgan was quietly snickering into his com-link.

“Tell Hotch I’m standing by,” Morgan said. “I don’t hear gunfire or see any movement in there.”

“Garcia is calling in on the other line,” Rossi replied. “Morgan, another call coming through.”

“I’ll hang up,” Morgan said, signing off. 

“Hello?” Rossi called out.

“So, you said you wanted to see if I could tap into the prison security system and main frame,” Penelope began.

“Yes.”

“The answer is yes and no.” 

“Which means what?”

“I am already into the prison’s main frame, but the security is on an independent system, one without an outside link. That’s brilliant because it protects the system from intrusion, but unhelpful, because we wish to intrude. The cameras are operational, but we can’t tap into them without being inside and directly linked to one of their security terminals.”

“Prentiss is in one of guard stations, which undoubtedly has a security terminal in it. Maybe we can patch in through there,” Rossi said. “Have you had any luck raising Reid again?”

“He’s not answering his phone.”

Mouse had her phone out and was dialing rapidly. It rang and rang. Reid’s voice mail message repeated through the speaker. Mouse frowned and clicked it off.

“As I said,” Garcia murmured. Mouse was thumbing the keys again. 

“What are you doing?” Rossi asked. 

“Sending him an email.”

“If he’s not answering his phone, what makes you think he’ll answer his email?” Rossi asked Mouse.

Katherine frowned at him sullenly before she put her eyes back on her phone.

“Garcia, what systems can you access?” Rossi asked.

“Anything attached to the main frame. I got lights. I got water. I got alarms. I do not have security cameras or fire walls or fail-safe doors at my disposal though, at least not yet.”

“Does Papa’s phone have locator service on it?” Mouse asked.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Garcia replied.


	11. Chapter 11

The helicopter that had dropped them on the tower was raising slowly back into the air. Hotch watched it ascend as he followed Sid and Max to the entry door which would lead them into the tower itself.

Agent al Siddig tapped the entry code into the keypad by the heavy metal door. The door hissed and popped and opened.

“Federal agents!” Hotch announced loudly.

Sid followed Hotch and Max through the door. They found themselves in a metal octagon decked with a circle of computers and tv monitors, a circle of seats, and an undisturbed cache of weapons.

Prentiss waved at them from the other side of the circle of monitors in the middle of the room.

“Hotch! Over here. I’ve got Reid on the security camera.”

Hotch was at Prentiss’s back, leaning over her shoulder, face practically pressed to the monitor. Reid was headed down a corridor towards the center of the complex, right towards the locked-down cafeteria. There was a large black man in prisoner drabs walking behind him, holding a gun to the middle of his back.

Hotch inhaled sharply and his entire body stiffened with fear. Even in the red-lit darkness, it was possible to see that Reid was disheveled and bruised. Two more figures entered camera range, hurrying along the corridor behind Reid and the man with the gun. It was a woman in a smart skirt and sneakers, and a guard whose distance from the camera made it hard to see him well.

“What is Reid doing?” Hotch wondered. “Where is he going? Morgan will be in the hospital ward any second. Why didn’t Reid stay there?”

“Because the man pointing the gun at him has other plans. When Reid and LaBarré broke into the hospital ward a few minutes ago, there was one guard and one prisoner in there alive. Everyone else was already dead,” Prentiss said, pointing to a different monitor which now showed the wreckage of the hospital ward. It was filled with broken glass and debris. There was blood, and signs of a struggle. Several bodies were spread around as well: two guards, a nurse, a doctor, and three prisoners.

“Where is the prisoner taking him?” Hotch worried. 

“Back to the cafeteria,” Prentiss reported.

“Damn it!” Hotch exclaimed, pounding a fist on the metal desk when the man with the gun shoved Reid against the metal double-doors and began to fiddle with the keypad.

“Hotch, we have to move,” Prentiss whispered, shaking her head.

“I have to say, the doctor seems remarkably calm, even if a bit ruffled,” Max interjected, impressed in spite of his best efforts otherwise.

Hotch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He studied what he could see of Reid’s face, and decided Max was right. Reid was concerned, but he wasn’t terrified.

“Get Garcia on the phone. See if she can patch into the security system using this terminal here,” Hotch said, pointing to the main monitor.

* * *

“Ernie, why do you want to go back in there?” LaBarré asked. The man with the gun was shaking his head no, tapping keys, looking frustrated.

“We can’t open the door,” Reid said softly. Ernie looked back at him and put the Glock to his chest. “I’m sorry, Ernie, but we can’t get in there. Once the fail-safe doors are in place, the security computer program puts a different set of codes into place as well, which would make sense, being as the fail-safe doors close in emergency situations, and if your emergency involves prisoners loose in the facility, you don’t want them to be able to open all the doors at will,” Reid explained.

“Why doesn’t he know all the codes?” Ernie asked, pointing his gun at the guard.

“Because no one would know all the codes, for their own safety. If the prisoners knew that the guards knew all the codes, or had a list of all the codes on their person, the first thing that would happen in a situation like this is that someone would grab a guard and use him as a walking key code source.”

“When there’s a problem, the main computer locks down the facility, and we receive a text which gives us the new code,” the guard explained, in a mocking tone that did nothing to cover his disgust. “That code is automatically changed every ten minutes, and we receive a new text with the new code each time it is changed.”

“So where’s your phone? Where’s the text? What’s the new code?” Ernie demanded angrily.

“It was stolen from me by the bastards that broke into the hospital ward and shot everyone else before you got there, and started shooting everyone again. They took my gun and my phone. They would have killed me too!”

“If you hadn’t been hiding under the nurses’ desk,” LaBarré pointed out.

“It was a tactical decision that saved my life,” the guard answered, jaw jutting out in anger and embarrassment.

“It was the correct decision under the circumstances,” Reid agreed. “Unfortunately, that means whoever took your gun and your phone has the source for every new code that will be generated, and is walking around scot-free through the facility.”

“I realize that. So what now, genius?” the guard smirked at Reid.

“Can I shoot him?” LaBarré asked Ernie. 

“No, you can’t shoot him,” Reid replied.

“You saved his life, and now the man is being disrespectful to you. We should shoot him,” LaBarré insisted.

“Why not shoot the panel off?” the guard asked. Ernie pointed his Glock at the panel and waited for instructions.

“If we shoot the panel off, we can’t use the panel to open the door,” Reid explained. He watched Ernie lower the gun.

“Well, genius, the panel isn’t doing us much good, is it? Why not shoot the face off the panel, and rewire the controls from the inside?”

“Because there are no wires to ‘rewire’. This is not a car you can hijack by jump-starting the ignition. It’s a complex system of circuits and chips and programs. You can’t beat it with brute force,” Reid murmured.

“Like you would know from brute force,” Jim the guard smirked again. Reid glared at Jim the guard, and huffed one harsh breath.

“See, you wanna shoot him too, don’t you?” LaBarré whispered.

“You going to call your mommy for advice?” Jim asked as Reid pulled out his phone. Ernie pointed the gun at Reid again.

“It’s okay. I’m calling a friend of mine. She might be able to open the door for us,” Reid explained. Ernie kept the gun leveled at him anyway.

“You say one stupid thing, and I’ll blow your brains out,” he warned.

Reid dialed his phone and carefully watched Ernie. “Garcia?”

“Reid!?”

“Hi, Penelope. Do you have access to the prison security system? Ernie wants us to go through the door,” Reid said.

“Hotch told me about your new friend. He's watching you on the security cameras. No, Reid, I will not open the door for you.”

“You said ‘will not’, which would seem to indicate you do have access and you could, if you wanted to,” Spencer replied, darting his eyes around in search of the cameras. He didn’t see any, which meant they must be hidden in the drop-ceiling or so small and thin that they were undetectable.

“I was able to gain access to the security system from the main security terminal in the room where Prentiss and Hotch are right now. No, Reid. I will not open the door for you.”

“Ernie wants us to go in there,” Reid said, a tremble in his voice. “It’s really very important to him. Pretty please?”

“He did call his mother,” Jim the guard laughed. 

“Garcia, please open the door,” Reid persisted.

“Reid, Hotch said for you to sit tight. Morgan has entered through the hospital ward with a ten-man tactical team. They will be to your location in minutes. You need to sit tight until he gets there.”

“Garcia, open the door,” Reid insisted more firmly. 

“Reid. No,” Penelope resisted.

“Then I’ll find my own way in.”

“Spencer Reid! No! You stay right there! Reid!” Garcia shouted.

Reid disconnected the call and put the phone away in his pocket. He was staring at the ceiling. He motioned for Ernie to follow him, and they walked around the junction between the two corridors which met in front of this cafeteria entrance. Reid was studying the junctions and reading the numbers on the black and white panels high on the walls. Ernie made sure to keep his Glock pointed at Reid at all times.

“Now what?” LaBarré asked.

“Ernie, can you boost me up to the ceiling?” Reid asked.

“No tricks,” Ernie said, as he put the gun to Reid’s chest again.

“No tricks,” Spencer promised. “I wish you would stop pointing that at me.”

Ernie lowered the gun again.

“I think if I can get into the ventilation system from here, I might be able to go over the door instead of through it. Maybe I can open the door from the inside?”

Ernie looked Reid up and down with distrust in his face. But he handed the gun to LaBarré and put down both hands in a cup formation. Reid toed off his shoes, put the long handle of his bag up over across his body, and put his hands on Ernie’s big shoulders. The prisoner lifted Reid with such strength that he almost put the thin doctor through the paneling of the drop ceiling.

“You are going to go over the door?” Dominique asked Spencer slid the drop panel aside, grasped the edges of the frame, and slid himself awkwardly skyward. Above the drop ceiling was the ventilation system. Reid pulled out his small screwdriver set and set to work, taking off the panel to get inside the vent system.

“He can’t be serious,” Jim intoned, staring up into the second hole that Reid had made. “Hey, buddy. You aren’t storming the Death Star here. This is not some sci-fi convention contest where you race to the center of the complex. It’s not a game. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“What do you want us to do down here?” LaBarré asked.

“Give Ernie back his gun,” Reid said. LaBarré raised an eyebrow, but did it anyway. “Keep an eye out for Agent Morgan. If Morgan gets here before I get back, tell him to be nice to Ernie and help him get through the door. If I can get through, I’m going to try to open the door from the inside. If I can’t get through, I’ll be right back,” Reid replied. Ernie lifted the gun and gave Reid a dark look. 

“No tricks,” the prisoner frowned.

“No tricks, Ernie. I promise.” 

“Leave the bag,” Ernie said.

“I need the bag,” Reid protested.

Ernie tipped the gun slightly left and put a bullet through the ceiling and the vents less than a foot from Reid’s head. Spencer closed and opened his eyes. He was frowning now. He was not happy.

“Leave the bag,” Ernie repeated.

“Ernie, I’m trusting you. Don’t lose my bag. It has my stuff in it. My files. My work. My badge. My credentials. I like my bag. Do you understand me?”

“If you like it, you’ll come back for it,” Ernie said.

“Of course I’m coming back—for my bag and for my shoes, and because I promised I would come back. I’m not going anywhere, Ernie. If your plan is to root around inside my bag for valuables, be careful. There are no valuables. There is a Taser though. If you’re hungry, there should be a couple of granola bars, down in the very bottom,” Reid added, dropping his beloved satchel out of the ceiling. Ernie picked up the bag and put it over his own shoulder.

“Come back quick,” he ordered.

“I need my flashlight. It’s inside the bag,” Spencer said. Ernie flipped the pouch open and pulled it wide to see in. He pulled out the small, thin, black cylinder and tossed it up to Reid. “Thanks,” Reid replied.

“What does Agent Morgan look like?” LaBarré asked.

“Tall, chocolate, and handsome,” Reid replied, giving her a small reassuring smile.

“Sounds promising, but how am I going to keep Agent Morgan from shooting Ernie?”

“Tell Morgan I said to be nice to Ernie,” Reid answered, pointing his flashlight through the vents towards the middle. He pulled the metal panel back into place to conceal where he had gone.

“Is he trying to get himself killed?” the guard grumbled.

“At least he’s not hiding under the nurses’ desk,” Ernie replied, smirking at Jim.


	12. Chapter 12

Reid wasn’t fifteen feet through the ventilation system when he realized that the path he wanted to take over the door into the cafeteria was not going to work. As the vents headed towards the door, they got progressively smaller and smaller, and even with his thin frame, there was no way he was going to be able to fit. What was worse, he could smell smoke and barbeque from where he was, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t really barbeque.

Reid sighed his disappointment and paused where he was. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He turned around to head back, put down his flashlight, and took his phone out of his pocket. He laid down on his back in the vent.

“Dr. Reid, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but you are going to stop where you are, turn around, and get the hell down out of the ceiling. You will put yourself in the safest location you can find, and you are going to wait until we come to you. Do you understand me, Dr. Reid? Because I am at the end of my patience with you. This is stupidity. No. This is beyond stupidity. This is suicidal. Are you listening to me? Do you want to get hurt? Do you want to get killed? What is the matter with you?”

“Hi, Hotch,” Reid whispered. “How are you?”

“Don’t be flippant with me. I will suspend your ass so fast.”

“Sir, what I wanted to do was get an assessment of the condition of the guards and the prisoners in the cafeteria. But I can’t. The vents are too small. They get smaller as you go towards the doors. I won’t fit through.”

“Good. Get your butt down out of there, now.”

“I seem to have misunderstood. Have you already been briefed on the condition of the people in the cafeteria?”

“No. We don’t have eyes inside. No one has called out either, even though Rossi and Garcia have been burning up the phone lines attempting to reach every single landline and guard cell phone within the lockdown area. No one is answering.”

“How are we going to find out what’s going on inside?”

“JJ and Spaulding are working a coil camera into the area. It’s going to take about ten more minutes to get the camera close enough. They’re having to put extensions on the cable to run it through the ventilation system.”

“A coil camera isn’t going to tell you the entire situation.”

“A coil camera isn’t going to get killed either.”

“Lucky for you, I’m smarter than a coil camera. Unfortunately for me, I’m too big to fit through the vents over the door.”

“Reid. Turn around. Get down. That’s an order.” 

“Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity.”

“Turn around. Get down. That’s an order.”

“Has anybody ever told you how sexy you are when you’re bossy? I already have turned around. I am already heading back.”

“Goddamn it, Reid. Why do you worry me like this? Get down out of there and stay where I can see you on the cameras.”

“Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity.”

“You don’t have to prove you are any of those to me. You’ve already done so, again and again.”

“Hotch, there are people in there who need help. I want to help.”

“The guards will contact outside as soon as they are able. If they are not able, then the best course of action is to send in a team who can extract them. Do not put yourself in any further danger.”

“Bit late to worry about that, isn’t it?”

“Rossi or Garcia can do it from this end, through the phone lines.”

“You said yourself that no one from the inside is answering.”

“The coil camera will be there soon. Morgan will be there even sooner.”

“Ten minutes, you said. A lot can happen in ten minutes.”

“Reid, we’ve waited longer than that before in situations more hazardous than this.”

“Ten minutes is a long time to wait when lives could be at stake.”

“You are not to put yourself in any unnecessary danger. Don’t make me….”

Gunfire interrupted their conversation. Hotch caught his breath and lost his voice.

“I have to go now. Bye. I love you,” Reid whispered breathily.

The call was quietly disconnected.

“Morgan! Where are you?!” Hotch shouted into his comlink. Aaron’s knees buckled. Prentiss was at his side, arm around his waist, guiding him to a chair.

“May I have the code for the door, please?” Max asked Sid. 

The young agent looked to Hotch, who took several deep breaths before standing up from the chair. 

“We could split into two teams. Prentiss and I. You and Khotchner. We can reach the central area in under two minutes. I beg you. The code, please.”

“Agent Morgan will already be there with his team by the time we are there,” Hotch replied.

“It is agony to sit here and do nothing,” Max replied. “The code, please?”

“Prentiss, you and Max will remain here, monitor the situation as well as you can from the station,” Hotch ordered.

“Hotch….” Emily protested.

“Sid and I will head to the cafeteria.” 

“Khotchner, you are cruelty incarnate,” Max murmured. In one calm, fluid motion, he yanked out his gun and aimed it at the main computer.

Hotch and Prentiss and Sid flew backwards out of range.

Max fired one shot, dead center, right into tower of the main security computer. It lit up beautifully with blue and white chaotic sparks before winking out, and becoming a burning, blackened shell. Every single monitor fizzled and died. Max smiled and faced the door, but the exit remained closed. He furrowed his brow and stared at Sid. He put sheepishly put his gun away.

“Open the door,” Hotch nodded. Sid tapped the keys. The door sprang open.

“Specibo,” Volchenkov said grimly. He exited the guard station and pounded down the metal stairs to the next open door.


	13. Chapter 13

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Prentiss murmured as they slid along the walls, mindful to make their footsteps quiet. Emily shuddered with concern, worried what lay beyond each corner. So far, they had not met a single person. The facility was bathed in eerie red light, and it was chilling to stalk through these ghostly corridors and see no one at all.

Max stopped where he was and circled back, getting behind Emily against the wall.

“Shooting the monitor? I thought it would open the door.”

“What if it had opened every door in the facility?” 

“But the fail-safe…” Max protested.

“Luckily for you, every guards’ station has a computer that will control the fail-safe program, or you would be in deep shit. You disobeyed Hotch.”

“I am not his to order about.”

“He knows what he’s doing. You should trust him.” 

“As you trust him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what trusting men like Khotchner did for me? My wife, murdered. My daughter, murdered. My life, destroyed. Why do I tell you these things?  
You couldn’t understand.”

“I know what it’s like to lose the people you love.” 

“ ‘Trust me’, he said. ‘They will be safe in your absence. I will protect them as my own’. Again and again, he assigns me to be further and further away from my family for longer times, longer assignments, and I begin to worry what his real motives are. Did he protect my family? No. He took advantage of my absences, and tried to take advantage of my Elza. When my wife resisted, he shot my daughter. When my wife continued to resist, he shot Elza as well. He lied to me, and told me it was thugs. Did he not think I would know the bullets were from his gun? Did he not think I would find out?”

“Who was he?”

“My commanding officer. The one who gave me this gun. Do you know why I carry his gift to this day?”

“No.”

“To remind myself what too much trust can bring.” 

“Max, I’m sorry.”

“It is done. Cannot be undone. It is okay now. I tracked him down. I killed him, but that did not satisfy me. It only made me more empty. For a few years, I was blood-thirsty, insatiable. I could not kill enough people to fill the hole that he made in me. And then, I met Korsakova. She changed my life. There are only two people on this planet that I would trust. Your Khotchner is not among them.”

“Who then do you trust?” Emily questioned.

“Korsakova and my brother. And him, I am not always sure about,” Max gave a faint smile.

Prentiss nodded grimly and started moving along again. She paused at the end of the next corridor.

“You can trust me,” she told him. Max snorted in amusement.

“I never trust a pretty face.”

“What? You only trust ugly people?”

“This is an essential survival technique that many men employ.”

“You are such a pig,” Prentiss smirked.

“I tease you. I do trust you,” Max rescinded. “I told you before, I feel a kinship between us, a deep and abiding current that tells me we are…. what is your expression…. two peas in a pod.”

“You could not be more wrong.” 

“How am I wrong?” Max asked.

“Because I trust Hotch. I always will.” 

“Because you trust pretty faces?”

“I have a sense of who I can trust. It has nothing to do with their face.”

“You are not so unalike my mistress. You would do well in a job like hers.”

“I’ve had a job like hers. It didn’t work out at all well.”

“She was like me when I met her. Filled with angry holes that were eating her soul away. We completed each other, and filled those holes.”

“Oh? So you and Korsakova. It’s that kind of relationship, is it?”

“No, no, no. You misunderstand. She is like my sister to me.”

“But you and she?” 

“No. Never.”

“Never?”

“Unlike you, I don’t sleep with the people I work with,” Max teased.

“You should try it. It builds trust.”

“It builds love, and love is even more dangerous than trust. Love makes you gushy and weak.”

“Gushy? Weak?”

“You are here because you love your Khotchner, and you want to stop his pain. You are here because you love the pretty doctor, and you want to protect him.”

“They are like my brothers to me,” Emily replied, mimicking Max’s accent.

“You must come from a very weird family,” Max retorted playfully.

“Are you telling me love is not the reason you’re here, risking your life?”

“Love?”

“You love Mouse, and you’re doing this for her. See? You do love. You do trust.”

“Ekaterina. She is my only weakness. There is nothing I would not do for her.”

“You love her. It makes you weak. Gushy. Smooshy. All warm and fuzzy.”

“Stop,” Max whined. 

“What?”

“Shh,” Max cautioned, ears perking up. Prentiss went quiet and moved tight to the wall with him. Then she heard the footsteps.


	14. Chapter 14

Reid peered cautiously back down out of the ceiling. LaBarré and Ernie were leaning against the wall. Dominique was grimacing as she gingerly dotted her fingers against the streak of red on Ernie’s ribs.

“Dr. Reid is back, and you are in trouble, mister,” Dominique scolded Ernie.

“Why am I in trouble? That jackass tried to shoot me. I was only defending myself. I didn’t mean to break his neck. He scared me.”

“What happened?” Reid asked carefully.

“Jim grabbed Ernie’s gun, and took a shot at Ernie. Ernie snapped his neck,” LaBarré explained with an annoyed sigh, pointing to the lifeless guard’s body where it was slouched against the far side of the corridor. “I told you, Ernie, I told you, you are going to be in trouble.”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Ernie repeated sullenly.

“Tell him he’s in trouble,” Dominique insisted to Reid.

“Are you okay?” Reid asked instead, maneuvering around and lowering himself from the ceiling in a very uncoordinated drop. He sat up, rubbing his left elbow.

“He didn’t hurt me,” Ernie replied. LaBarré agreed. There was nothing more than a superficial scratch on Ernie’s side.

“Tell him he can’t go around killing people all the time. That’s what got him into this hell-hole in the first place,” LaBarré scolded again.

“Ernie, you can’t go around killing people.” 

“He scared me. It’s his own damned fault.”

“Next time, be more careful,” Reid said. He wiggled a couple fingers, motioning ‘give me’ to Ernie, and the prisoner gave Reid the Glock. Reid stared at the gun, confused.

“Um. No. I wanted my bag,” he clarified. “You can keep the gun. Just quit pointing it at me. And don’t point it at her either.”

“Sorry,” Ernie said, giving Reid his satchel. He stuffed the Glock in the back of his pants. Reid put his feet back in his shoes and straightened his pants legs.

"Do you know how many accidental shootings happen each year, mostly from people stowing a weapon in the waistband of their trousers? You could shoot yourself in the butt. Don't do that. Put the gun in here. In case we need it,” Reid said, opening the satchel. Ernie dropped the gun into the open bag.

“You couldn’t get over the door?” LaBarré asked.

“No,” Reid whined. “The vent here is large enough for me to crawl through, but the one that goes over the door is too small. Clearly, someone already considered the possibility and neutralized the option.”

“We have to get inside,” Ernie said.

Reid turned and faced the big man. He felt a tickle on his ear, and pushed all ten fingers through his hair to push it out of his eyes. He tried not to shiver when he felt spider webs in both hands.

“There must be someone awfully important to you in there,” Spencer whispered.

“Sherman,” Ernie nodded, his face contorting with emotion.

“Who is Sherman?” Reid asked. 

“My best friend,” Ernie cried.

Reid lowered his head and gazed mournfully at the floor. He reached up a hand and petted Ernie on one big arm.

“Okay. We’ll keep trying. There has to be a way inside. There were three entrances to the cafeteria on the blueprints. This one is closest to the kitchen. What are we having for lunch today?” he asked.

“I didn’t see a menu yet,” LaBarré replied. Reid cast his eyes at Ernie, who was drying off his face.

“Spaghetti,” he mumbled.

Reid cringed, and decided he should not mention the barbeque smell from the overhead vents. He should probably be very glad they couldn’t get the door before them open, because he could tell as he put his hands to the walls and walked slowly along, that there was a definite heat source right on the other side of the thick walls.

“We have to go to this direction to reach the next entrance to the cafeteria,” Reid said. As Reid brushed more spider webs off of his shoulders, Ernie flinched and whirled around. Reid heard approaching footsteps. Heavy boots. Fifteen people? “It’s okay. It’s probably Agent Morgan,” Spencer soothed.

The barrel of a long gun appeared around the corner, followed by a familiar face.


	15. Chapter 15

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” Morgan murmured, dusting off the back of Reid’s sweater and putting a bullet-proof vest on him, pulling it tight, cinching the closures.

“Me, you, likewise. Derek, this is Dominique, and this is Ernie,” Reid said quickly. Ernie nodded to him, and LaBarré gulped loudly and audibly, taking a step or two back. Reid watched the stars literally circling around Dominique’s eyes as she watched Derek.

“Who was that?” Derek asked, pointing at Jim the guard.

“He was an asshole. He tried to shoot me,” Ernie answered.

“We can sort all that out later,” Reid said to Morgan’s slightly quizzical look as he opened his satchel and let Morgan remove the Glock that was inside. Derek stowed the weapon and gave a dark, angry look to the tactical person who snickered softly.

“Please tell me you have a plan for getting through this door,” Morgan said to Reid.

“No. Not this door.”

“You went into the ceiling, Hotch said. Any luck?” 

“No. The vents get smaller over the door. No one could fit through there.”

Morgan handed Reid a com-link cord and earpiece.

“Put this on. Talk to Mouse. You two. You behind me,” Morgan said, pointing at LaBarré. “You behind him,” he added, pointing from Ernie to the next tactical man.

LaBarré got as close as possible behind Morgan, and when Reid caught her eye, she gave him a small, devilish wink. Ernie followed behind the man that Derek had pointed to, no qualms, no questions, no problem.

Reid slipped the earpiece on and pushed his hair back out of his face again. He withdrew his fingers from his locks and discovered he held a small spider dangling from his grip. Reid walked across the corridor to the other side, where a potted tree was leaning calmly against the wall. He dangled his hand over the plant and watched the spider, no bigger than the head of a pin, as she spun herself from his fingers and grabbed anxiously for the nearest leaf.

“Ekaterina, are you there?” Reid murmured as he released the spider into the plant. He heard a loud inhalation, and someone started crying. “It’s okay, Myshka. I’m all right. Don’t cry.”

As he returned to the security of the tactical group, he continued speaking in a softer voice.

“Where are you?” 

“Outside,” Mouse sniveled.

Another voice came over the link.

“Reid, we’re at the front entrance security checkpoint. She’s recording tactical observations on the map,” Rossi said.

"Thank you, Dave," Reid whispered. 

"You're welcome, Spencer," Rossi grinned.

“What’s your position?” Mouse asked, drying her face on her sleeve. “I want to put you on the map too, Papa.”

“We are near the first entrance to the cafeteria, between Corridor A17 and A19. We couldn’t get through the first entrance, so we’re headed for the next entrance, which is between Corridor B17 and B19.”

“Hotch and Sid are almost to your position,” Rossi interjected.

“Have you evacuated Emily yet?” Reid worried.

“She and Max are also headed for your position,” Mouse replied.

There was a burst of gunfire and shouting. Rossi couldn’t hear much over the comlink because Mouse gave a quick shriek of surprise. It was one peep of alarm, and then she fell deathly quiet. Dave could hear sporadic gunfire, but now he could also hear Morgan shouting orders.

“Put down your weapons, and step into the center where I can see you, now!” Morgan ordered loudly. In reply, there was more gunfire. Mouse clutched Rossi’s hand, and he held tight. Together they waited, listening to their pounding hearts. Rossi heard muffled explosions, and knew the sound well. Someone was lobbing smoke grenades, presumably to create confusion.

“Morgan! Report!” Rossi shouted.

“Morgan?!” Hotch was shouting over the comlink. From his breathing, Rossi could tell that Hotch was running full speed while talking. “Agent Morgan!? Report!”

“Busy! In a minute!” Morgan yelled back.

Standing outside the building, even at this distance, it was possible to hear more gunfire and even more muffled explosions. Mouse was nearly hyperventilating. She was whispering to herself in Russian. It was either a prayer or an incantation, Rossi decided, maybe a little of both.

Another voice came through loud and clear on the comlink.

“Get your goddamn hands off him!! Off! I said off!!” 

“REID!?” Morgan shouted.

“Who was that?” Rossi wondered out loud, and then he wished he hadn’t. Mouse closed her eyes and continued to whisper.

“Should we move in, sir?” another guard asked from behind Rossi. Dave spun to him and motioned ahead. The remaining tactical unit moved quickly and gracefully across the pavement, entering the complex through the path that Morgan and the first team had opened up.

Rossi could hear shouting and screaming over the comlink.

“JJ! Spaulding!” Rossi called over the mic. “Can you see anything from where you are?”


	16. Chapter 16

Epilogue

 

“Dr. Reid?”

Someone put a hand gently on Spencer’s hand. He lifted his eyes to study her – a blonde woman in her mid-forties. She had Russian features—almond-shaped, light-brown eyes, round cheeks, a small nose. She had a bruise on her right cheek, and three stitches which she had masked over with a small bandage.

He glanced sideways to the mirrored wall of the café they were sitting in. His own face was bruised as well. He wondered what had happened. He had dark rings under both eyes, and his upper lip was puffy, as if he had been struck in the mouth recently. Had he been? He wondered as he touched his tongue tenderly to his front teeth, and dabbed the tip of his tongue to his swollen lip.

The woman he was with, she was dressed casually but smartly, in brown slacks and a button-down blouse under a dark brown jacket. She had an overnight bag nestled beside her feet. They were in an airport. Children were laughing and playing nearby. Why were they in an airport? Who was this woman? Why was she holding his hand?

“What happened then?” she asked. “Spencer? Are you all right?”

Reid shook his head to clear the fog and closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again and smiled slowly at her.

“Where did you go?” she asked. Korsakova, his brain supplied. Yulia Korsakova.

“Sorry. I’ve been a bit spacey since I hit my head. What were we talking about?” Reid murmured, sipping cautiously from his cup of coffee.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that!” Korsakova gasped, her face lighting up with concern and amusement both. “What happened?”

“When?”

“Spencer, at the prison?”

“Morgan and his tactical team found us. We were headed for the next entrance to the cafeteria.”

“Yes. You got that far. You ran into trouble.”

“The prisoners who had attacked the hospital ward had come back to the cafeteria too. We encountered them in the junction between two corridors, and a gun battle ensued.”

“You said before—you were clubbed in the head during the struggle. You have a mild concussion. Are you sure you should be driving?”

“Oh? Is that it? I wondered what happened. Don't worry. I’m fine. A few headaches, that’s all.”

“What happened to Ernie? Did you find Sherman for him?” she asked, taking out her phone and quickly dialing a number.

“Morgan subdued the prisoners with minimal loss of personnel. We joined up with Hotch and Sid, who managed to get the second entrance to the cafeteria open. Max and Prentiss arrived, having been delayed by a run-in with another group of prisoners, whom they managed to subdue. He didn’t tell you about his escapades? Am I boring you?” he asked, looking pointedly at her phone.

“No, you are not boring me. I love adventure tales,” she insisted. “But what about Sherman? Was Sherman unharmed?”

“Sherman was fine. Unharmed. Ernie was very relieved. He kept hugging me, and hugging Dominique too."

“What about Ms. LaBarré? How is she?”

“She saved my life,” Reid whispered. Korsakova put the phone to her ear as she gently squeezed his hand again. Her voice stayed pleasant, but her eyes and her face hardened to absolute steel.

“Good morning. Where in the living hell are you? In your car. How nice. I don’t mean to pry, and I realize this is none of my business, but I honestly do not think You-Know-Who should be driving around by himself. We’ve been talking for fifteen minutes, and he’s drifted away from me twice already. I am going to wait right here with him, and you are going to turn your car around and come….oh. I see. Mouse has already called you. She called you an hour ago? I see. Well then. Now you know there is cause for concern if a ten-year-old child is telling you he does not look right to her. He got lost on the way here? He almost drove to Philadelphia? No. This is decidedly not a good thing. I know you know I do not mean to tell you what to do, but…yes. We will wait for you right here. If necessary, I will make arrangements for us to take the next flight. We will see you soon.”

Korsakova snapped her phone closed and put it on the table. She smiled serenely and innocently at Reid.

“Please forgive the rudeness. Go on, dear. What will happen with Ms. LaBarré? Did she tell you what happened with the men that she killed?” she murmured.

“Not in so many words. But I figured it out. I understood. That may be the only thing about this situation that’s clear to me.”

“What did you understand?”

“Dominique. She killed Brian and his friends because she must have walked in on them hurting her friend Tammy. They were hurting Tammy, and Dominique stopped them.”

“One person? She managed to kill three grown men by herself?”

“You should have seen her in the hallway. She was like a bear. I don’t remember what happened, just that someone or something hit me in the head, and I was flat on my back on the ground, and Dominique, she was standing over me, swinging at anything that moved near me. She even clocked Derek in the head."

“So what you think is that all those years ago, she must have come home to find Brian and his friend taking advantage of Tammy. Ms. LaBarré intervened on her friend’s behalf to save her life, and that is how the men died. She had all those years of built-up anger inside her. She snapped, and slaughtered these beasts?”

“Yes.”

“Why did Tammy not come to Ms. LaBarré’s defense then?”

“Tammy didn’t want anyone to know what had happened to her, so Dominique kept her silence in order to protect Tammy’s honor.”

“If Ms. LaBarré has kept her silence all these years, she is very unlikely to admit to you even now what happened. She will go on defending Tammy’s honor with her silence. I know from silence. I know how far a woman will go to defend her honor and protect her secrets.”

They shared a quiet moment between them. Korsakova picked at her Danish on the white porcelain plate between them. Reid sipped his coffee again.

“While we are on the topic, I would like to tell you something important that you should know,” Yulia began again, her voice low. “This is the one and only time we will talk about this topic.”

“What topic?”

“The defending of honor and the keeping of secrets.” 

“Ah.”

“I know Ekaterina has worried you much with all this talk about Vladivostok, but any time that she goes there, Max is with her, even if I cannot be. No matter how much my mother might insist, I will never leave my child with her for more than a few days at a time.”

"Max can’t be with her every second of the day.”

“Yes, he can, and yes, he is. At all times, he is with her. When she is awake. When she is asleep. When she is in the house. When she is out of the house. When she goes to the bathroom, he stands outside the door. Max has strict orders whenever Mouse is there that he will not once let her out of his sight. They even sleep in the same room, which scandalizes my mother to no end.”

“I understand.”

“No. I don’t think you do. Max has very strict orders that should my step-father ever connive to be alone with my child, Max is free to put as many bullets into the man as he pleases. If my mother should attempt to defend my step-father, Max has my blessings to shoot her too.”

“Oh," Reid replied, shifting uncomfortably.

Korsakova sighed, looking away. Sad memories flitted through her eyes and face, and were then gone. She pushed her roll towards him and leaned her chin on one elbow. 

“Eat, baby, eat. You are too thin. I worry for you.”

“Why did you never….”

“Tell my mother? Don’t kid yourself. I told her. She didn’t believe me. She said I was an evil child who was making up lies about the man she loved.”

“How can you let Mouse….”

“Visit my parents? But what choice do I have? It would be unforgiveable to forbid her to see them. I would have to explain why to her. People, friends, they would ask questions. It would seem cold of me unless I explained to them too. I do not wish to have my private business be a matter of public gossip. I only wish to keep my child safe."

“You shouldn’t let her anywhere near that man."

“This from the father who took her to a prison for a field trip?” Korsakova whispered, shaking her head at him. She cut the sweet roll into pieces and fed them one at a time to Reid.

“Have you told Mouse?” he asked. 

“Told her what?”

“About your step-father?”

“I have warned her that he is a bad man whom she should never trust. That is all I have told her. That is all I will tell her.”

“Did you know that single women with teen daughters are statistically far less likely to remarry?”

“Darling, I know only too well.”

“Mouse isn’t stupid. She’s going to figure it out.”

“Of course she’s not stupid,” Yulia beamed proudly. “Eventually, yes, she will figure me out. When she is old enough, we will talk. But for now, let her be a child. Let her be innocent of such things. She does not have to know about all the evil that exists in this world. You should not have told her about London.”

“What makes you think….”

“That you told her about London? She’s been asking Max all kinds of questions about Chuma.”

“I would like to know more about Chuma myself.”

“Ask me then. Do not ask Mouse. Do not ask Max. Do not ask Mouse to ask Max. She is not as skilled an interrogator as she might believe she is. But then again, neither are you,” Yulia chuckled wickedly.

“Is Chuma dead?” 

“As a door nail.” 

“Did you do it?” 

“In Crete.”

“Why was he never found?”

“I slipped a fake passport and papers on his dead person, and he is buried at a nice Greek Orthodox church under an assumed name. I have even put flowers on his grave, so as not to seem unfeeling. It is more kindness than Chuma deserves. He was a wicked and unrepentant creature.”

“Did you cut off his head?”

“No, but I did put a sizeable hole or two in him.” 

“Why did you kill him?”

“He gave my daughter pneumonia because he found her very annoying. She would mess with his work when he wasn’t in his study. He gave her one of his poisoned virus vials to drink.”

“Chuma tried to kill Mouse?” Reid squeaked.

“He tried, but he did not succeed. The poison did not take full effect because she consumed it after lunch, when her stomach was full. Had she consumed it on an empty stomach, she would most likely be dead. But she is fine. It was many years ago. She was too young to remember.”

“What about Chuma’s project?” Reid asked, digesting the previous remark with a shudder.

Korsakova’s eyes widened. She put the last bite of roll into Reid’s mouth, and touched his chin with a flick of one finger.

“The project is defunct.” 

“What of his experiments?”

“Many of them are doing very well. Others, not so much.”

“You’ve kept track of them?”

“I inherited all the information when he disappeared. I have details on every last one of them.” 

“I should like…”

“I bet you would, but no. You have no need to know such things.”

“All right,” Reid nodded, accepting the answer for the moment.

“I will share with you that one interesting result was that a high number of the subjects produced children who displayed a tendency towards criminal activity and anti-social behaviors.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if it was something Chuma would have predicted, or something he was hoping for, or simply a strange development, but there it is. Was it something in the selection of subjects? Does having a higher intelligence put one at risk for deviant and criminal behavior? That is a question you should have some expertise with, yes?”

“In fact, sociopaths do tend to have higher-than-average intelligence.”

“It could also have been a factor in Chuma’s selection process for the surrogates. Though I have to say, he put his surrogates through a very rigorous screening process, so I would have to assume that the fault lies with the subjects, not the surrogates. Whether the factor is genetic or environmental, this I cannot say, but it is a curious result which puzzles my brain.”

“Were you rigorously screened?”

“More than most. He did not trust me, because you managed to escape me.” Yulia said this with a faint smile while stroking Spencer’s hand in a motherly manner.

“If the project is defunct, what became of the unused materials?”

“Destroyed. By my own hand.”

Reid exhaled heavily in relief, and closed his eyes for a second.

“You don’t need to worry yourself so,” Korsakova murmured. “Since the project was defunct, and no one had any interest in continuing Chuma’s work after he was gone, I was allowed the discretion to do as I pleased. It pleased me greatly to see no more harm come from Chuma’s deviant, eugenic perversions. I came to understand that Chuma had been allowed to do what he was doing because it kept him busy and out of trouble. His superiors understood that if you want to keep a criminal genius from causing harm, you keep him very busy, which will keep him very happy. Are you not most happy when you are busy?"

"Yes, but as I am not a criminal, I don't see how that should have any bearing on this discussion," Reid frowned playfully at her.

“There, but for the grace of God, goes you,” Korsakova replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

They were quiet again. Reid glanced over at Mouse, where she and Jack were running back and forth. She was pushing him on a luggage trolley around a column and back again. Jack held on for dear life, laughing loudly, his face bright and wide with glee. Korsakova put two fingers to her mouth and gave a sharp whistle which went through Reid’s head like a metal spike. He winced and squinted his face up tight. Mouse stopped in her tracks. Jack rolled off onto the floor and cackled with laughter. Mouse helped Jack to his feet, and they sat down on a side bench, chatting back and forth.

“There is one question you can’t bring yourself to ask,” Korsakova ventured.

“Is there?” Spencer whispered, continuing to watch Mouse and Jack.

“There was only one other. Before Ekaterina. But I could not carry it to full term.”

Reid blanched white when he realized what she was saying.

“There were difficulties,” Yulia explained. “I don’t know what went wrong. I lost the first child. Chuma wasn’t going to let me try again, but I begged him. He relented, in exchange for my submission to his perversions.”

“What were his particular perversions?”

“Is this professional curiosity?” she wondered. Reid shrugged, not knowing what to say. “He asked me to dress and behave as a boy,” she whispered.

Reid’s eyes widened. Korsakova shrugged and continued.

“Well to be honest, it was not the strangest thing I have ever been asked to do in bed. And it made sense, really. Chuma spent years, staring up the nooks and crannies of all these strange women, judging them by their genetic perfection and not their outward beauty. No one was going to let him do that for a living if they thought he had some prurient interest in the surrogates. Who better to put in charge of a genetic project than someone who had no desire to recreate or procreate himself, and no interest whatsoever in the surrogates he would need?”

“But what about the subjects he would choose?” Reid worried.

“Oh darling, you have no idea,” Korsakova cringed. “That evil man. I shudder to think what pleasure he derived from frightening you boys. It was always boys, too, never girls, though by and large, as these things go, as autism and social disorders are more prevalent among males, and these things seem to go hand-in-hand with having a higher intelligence, and therefore..."

“I beg to differ…” Reid growled defensively while keeping a pleasant face.

“Of course you would be of a different opinion,” Yulia chuckled.

“Daddy!” Jack screamed happily.

Reid darted his eyes back around to see Jack rushing towards their table. Mouse was calmly and slowly pushing the baggage trolley towards them too. Max was strolling behind the two children. A large hand touched Reid on the shoulder. He jumped, but calmed immediately when a familiar someone leaned into their conversation.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Hotch said. He touched a quick kiss to Reid's cheek, and then reached out and scooped Jack up into his arms. Hotch sat down at their table as Reid stared at him.

“When did you get here?!” Jack squealed with happiness, bouncing around and getting comfortable on Hotch’s thigh.

“What are you doing here?” Reid asked skeptically, eyes narrowed. “I thought you had errands to run.”

“I thought we could go to Philadelphia from Baltimore. There’s a military arms and armor exhibition at one of the museums. Jack would love that. Wouldn’t you, buddy?” Hotch said smoothly, petting Reid’s arm and hugging Jack to his side.

“They should be….ah, yes….that would be our boarding call,” Korsakova murmured, listening to the voice over the intercom system. She squinted and continued to listen. “Why in God’s name would they choose a man with such an atrocious accent to make public announcements such as that? Did either of you understand a word he said? No. I bet you half the people in the building have no idea what he said. Clear and concise diction. Is this so much to ask?”

Hotch blinked at Korsakova and struggled not to smile. Reid shook his head at her, and looked up at Mouse where she was lurking over her mother’s shoulder.

“Give your Papa a smooch. We must be going,” Korsakova said, rising from her chair. Hotch and Reid stood as well. Mouse flew to Reid and squeezed him tightly. As they stepped aside and whispered to each other, Korsakova tapped Hotch on the arm and motioned him aside the other direction.

“What?” Aaron asked. Jack smiled back and forth between them as he watched them talk.

“Keep an eye on him. Don’t let him wander alone.”

“I always do keep an eye on him, and you know as well as I do that he is never alone. The doctor said it would pass in a few days, and if it doesn't, she wants me to bring him back in for more testing.”

“Be that as it may.”

“Have a safe flight.”

“Your way of telling me to mind my own business, I know.”

Korsakova gave Jack a pat on the head and shook Hotch’s hand.

“We are going to miss our flight,” Max said to Mouse, tugging on one ear.

Reid slipped an envelope to Mouse and whispered to her, “Hang onto this. It’s for emergencies.”

Mouse squeezed the envelope in between her fingers, and seemed to be trying to read what was inside by the feel of it alone.

“Shopping?” she asked hopefully. 

“Emergencies,” Reid stressed. 

“Hockey sticks?” Mouse grinned.

A second announcement reverberated over the intercom system. Korsakova made a sour face as she scanned the high ceiling. Max made his goodbyes to Reid and Hotch very brief. Yulia tugged on Mouse’s arm.

“We have to go, Squeaky,” she said. “You can visit your papa in the summer time. We are going to miss the flight.”

Reid watched the three of them walking away towards the security gate. Mouse got on the luggage trolley, and Max pushed her along. Jack got down out of Hotch’s arms and took one of Reid’s hands, hugging him around one leg. Spencer brushed his fingers through Jack’s hair and smiled sadly down at him.

“We need to make a stop in Abingdon on the way to Philadelphia,” Spencer murmured as Hotch gave him a searching look.

“Do you want to visit Mrs. Barfield?”

“I located her address. I owe Dominique at least that much. It would mean everything in the world to her to hear from her mother.”

“We can be there in no time,” Hotch agreed.


End file.
